Commander Wednesday Shepard (nee Addams): Prized Collection
by Sun-Tsu Toriden
Summary: The Collectors fired the first shot, killing the fearsome Wednesday Shepard. But they should have read more of HP Lovecraft. "That is not dead, which can eternal lie. And with strange eons, even Death may die." Wednesday's back, and she's not happy about the inconvenience they caused her. Rated M for more of the violence, language and weirdness you've come to love and expect.
1. Up and Addams!

It had been a day much like many of the ones that had come before it in the last two years. Miranda got up, checked the data on the patient from the overnight shifts, then spent the day working on keeping the healing on schedule and hoping against hope that there wouldn't be another incident like the one last month.

That incident had been the one where Wilson was the only person in the room at the time and Shepard had miraculously managed to regain consciousness three months ahead of schedule – nearly killing herself (again) in the process. Though Miranda had combed the data extremely finely, she couldn't find the evidence against Wilson that she knew should be there. Since she couldn't find anything solid against him, she had simply instituted a policy that no-one was allowed to alone with Shepard until they were ready to wake her. She'd gotten a lot of complaints, strangely enough all from Wilson.

As the day wore down and she was finishing up in her little office, Miranda decided that a short meditation would be good for her. Getting out of the chair and locking her door, she assumed a comfortable sitting position on the floor and cleared her mind. The clarity she gained lasted only a few moments as it was interrupted by an annoying, but not shrill alarm coming from her computer system. She cracked open one eye to see multiple red flashing warnings on the screen, so reluctantly got up and looked at them.

"What, that can't be right," she muttered, fingers flying over the holographic keys as the warnings flashed at her. Someone, she couldn't tell who, had managed to gain unauthorised root access to the server that processed all of the security mech runtimes and program backups. Miranda watched in real-time unable to intervene as a foreign code was entered from somewhere in Server Room B. She watched as the entire system was subverted and then sabotaged, leaving no possibility that she could undo the damage. Scrolling back up to the code to see what was happening, her eyes widened in shock for a split second, before narrowing in agitation. If it had been any other situation, she would have applauded her opponent.

They had somehow inserted a base override into all of the security mech IFF systems, which would kill every organic person on the station except two very specific, unknown targets. And they had timed it masterfully, at the shift change between the day and night shift, so the crew would either be too tired to be effective, or not awake and aware enough. Miranda's face distorted in a snarl as she heard the first shots being fired in a battle that would be horribly one-sided. Before she was even aware of it her fingers were dancing in the light-based keys, activating an untested contingency plan that she'd hoped would never be needed. She watched, her anger rising as she could do nothing but wait and hope that two years of work by some of the finest minds humanity could produce hadn't gone to waste.

* * *

_Pain._

It seemed to be her entire world. Questions like 'Who am I?' 'Where am I?' and even the dreaded 'What am I?' took a backseat to the overwhelming sensation of her reality now.

_Pain._

Not pain of any particular variety, even though the person this body used to be was well-versed in the many and various kinds that one being could inflict upon another. And not just brute-force pain either, but also in the exquisite and far more incisive types that could be inflicted with a mere word, careful cruel gesture, emotion – or a finely controlled sword, for preference. Pain was an old friend, a trusted lover to the person she used to be, and she had been gone too long from its sweet caress.

And now she was back, and pain seemed intent on making up for all the missed sensation while they had been apart. As it began to fade from mind-burning intensity to more distinguishable forms of muscular soreness and visual overload, as well as numerous still-healing cuts, she began to register sounds. A repeated sound, even as she raised a hand to block the light shining pure agony down her optic nerve.

"_Shepard_." It was a voice, or at least, that's what it sounded like. It could have been her imagination for all she knew.  
"_Shepard!_" There it was again, a little more insistent this time as Wednesday carefully felt around her very sore jawline. Her eyes were open lazily now, the pure intense pain now resolving itself into distinguishable light. She was in some kind of hospital room, given the amount of white everywhere.  
"_WEDNESDAY!_" the voice shouted irritably.

"WHAT?!" she shouted back, causing her eyes to focus instantly as her dry, unused throat brought her into complete consciousness, burning away the last of the sedatives she had been under.  
"_Shepard, you need to get moving. This facility is under attack, and we need to get you out of here_." The voice replied. Wednesday cocked her head at the ceiling, trying to work out where she was. She didn't recognise the voice, the rich Australian accent and the low, female pitched voice it veneered.  
"And just what exactly do you expect me to do, Mysterious Voice?" Wednesday replied angrily. "I'm groggy, feel like I haven't moved in months and I'm wearing a hospital gown which, while admittedly showing off my ass to great effect, isn't much good in a firefight. I'm not sure at this point I can even stand up straight!" Her point was perfectly illustrated as an explosion nearby rocked the bed, causing her to fall on the floor in an undignified heap. Slowly, and with much effort from her arms and legs, she managed to get herself upright, if a little shaky and still leaning on the table she had so recently been reclining on. She felt odd somehow, like she had been building her muscles, but at the same time not actually using them. She felt powerful, but unused to her own body, like hitting her puberty growth spurt all over again. She flexed her fingers, looking at them as if she couldn't quite reconcile the feelings and what she was seeing with her eyes. She could see the fading marks from surgical incisions, a lot of them, but didn't feel anything other than herself, and yet not herself.

Another explosion nearby swiftly brought her back to the present. Working out how she got to be the way she was now and why she couldn't remember how she wound up here would have to wait for another time. She realised that the Mysterious Voice had been speaking, but she hadn't heard a single word except the last.  
"… Wednesday?" Wednesday, she thought and a spark ran almost painfully through her mind. Wednesday Shepard, that's who I am. No… not Shepard… Addams. She took a deep breath as a thousand years of Addams inheritance, hidden deep in blood and bone, came rushing back to her. Her irises widened as she let go of her breath and suddenly all was right in her personal world.

"I have no idea what you just said Mysterious Voice, but I'm going to assume it was to tell me what you want me to do," she said loudly. "And if it was, let me be the first to tell you that you can never tell me what to do and expect me to follow it." With that she gave a smirk to the ceiling, turned about smartly, took a step towards the door and fell flat on her face. After a short cursing session and taking time to get back on her very unsteady feet, she made her way in stops and starts towards the door.

Thankfully it opened automatically. Unfortunately, the next room had far less in the way of useful chest-high trolleys and machinery, so she stumbled straight into a cold steel door. Her hand landed just _so_, and she felt a warmth under her palm before she let out another curse at her still-waking limbs.  
"_Passcode incorrect. Please enter the correct passcode_," a synthetic voice intoned. Wednesday looked up, confused. What the hell had she fallen against? Manoeuvring herself so she was standing, leaning heavily against whatever it was, she took a closer look at it.

It was big, to start with. Nearly three metres tall, and at least two wide. It was cold to the touch, water condensing all around it, except for the spot that had warmed when she touched it. And plastered right in the middle, in pride of place, a small, discrete logo declaring it to be the output of AddamsTech Genetics. Seeing the logo and the word Addams again sent of fresh waves of pain as her memory fired up again. Looking down, she placed her hand back on the warm spot.  
"DNA profile match 100% Wednesday Shepard. Please enter the passcode to unlock," the synthetic voice spoke again.  
"Sic gorgiamus allos subiectatos nunc," she replied automatically, though unsure what part of her mind that answer had come from.  
"Passcode accepted. Go get 'em Wednesday!" the container replied, this time in a much different voice. A real voice, one she recognised but couldn't name right now. She took a step back as the front panel shifted and a burst of cold gases escaped. She backpedalled quickly, running into a shelf with a much smaller container that fell to the floor. She picked it up, once again seeing the AddamsTech logo, but her attention was caught by the sound of the container opening and as a series of heavy thuds filled the small room.

Wednesday looked up as a mountain of a man, dressed in armour that looked like it was a war crime all on its own, got up stiffly, but soundlessly, from a kneeling position to his full, imposing two and a half metre stature. He turned around silently and reached into the container, pulling out a large machine cannon that had obviously been converted from a vehicular weapon. As he readied the weapon and looked at her expectantly, still as the grave, another painful flash of memory coursed through her mind. She had a name to go with his grey, impassive face, a name she knew well. It brought a smile, a true Addams smile, to her lips.  
"Hello, Lurch."

* * *

Holding on to the smaller AddamsTech case, Wednesday let Lurch go in front as she picked a random set of hallways to go through, following the sounds of gunfire. Wednesday wasn't particularly looking to get in a fight, despite salvaging a pistol from a dead guy, but gunfire meant people and right now people other than Lurch meant answers. The two of them eventually came out to an open walkway, where a dark-skinned and dark-attired man was singularly holding off a small group of mechs on an adjacent walkway. Wednesday immediately ducked into cover, hugging herself against the wall as she assessed the situation. A second later, after watching the man throw out a biotic attack, she came up with a plan.

"Lurch, cover fire. You, prepare a warp field and release on my command!" Lurch stepped into the open, trigger already depressed and raking the other bridge with automatic, high-calibre rounds. Wednesday threw out her arm in a practiced motion that felt ungainly and awkward to her, since she was still figuring out her new body. She felt the rush of electricity through her system as the element zero activated and a gravity-nullifying mass effect field made the mechanised opponents weightless. Her eyes widened in pleasure as the electric rush, and the corresponding biotic technique, was far more powerful than she had ever felt before in her life. She watched in almost euphoric detachment as the mechs she had meant to simply lift a few feet off the ground collided violently with the ceiling in an impressive explosion of sparks and shrapnel. Only then did she remember that she had an audience and turned her attention to the man still crouched down, looking up at her with wide, fear-filled eyes.

"I know this is probably a bad time, but we need to get to an exit, pronto," Wednesday said quickly. "I know I should probably be asking you a million and one questions right now, but I don't have time for that right now, and neither do you. So, quick introductions then. I'm Wednesday, the strong silent type next to me is Lurch. And you are?" the man opened and closed his mouth a few times as his brain tried and failed to connect his reasoning centre to the mouth, but he finally managed it.  
"Jacob, Jacob Taylor."  
"Well Mister Taylor, I have to say I'm not impressed with this hotel, and wouldn't recommend it to my friends and family. Except, of course, for the ones who enjoy this sort of thing – which would be most of them, actually. So if you will kindly escort me towards the nearest exit, I would be most obliged." Jacob stared dumbly at her for a moment while his brain tried to work out what the hell was going on, before deciding that was a job for the too-hard basket and letting basic training instincts kick in. The woman before him had been a superior officer and he had just been given something that could be construed as an order. The rest could be worked out later.

"Ah, right, this way then," he said, standing up and gesturing to a nearby door that looked like any of the other doors. "Shuttle bay is in this direction. Do you know anything about Miranda and her condition? She wouldn't have just left you."  
"Look, at this point, I'm learning to walk again, I'm dressed in a sheet and to top it all off, I woke up in the middle of a bad action film. I have no idea what's going on, let alone who Miranda is. You are the first person I've seen alive so far, so can we spare the questions?"  
"Oh yeah, right. So, follow me, I guess," he said uncertainly. He led her towards the door, when his omni-tool sprang to life with an incoming signal.

"Check, check. Hello, is anyone on this frequency?!" Jacob stopped and opened a channel.  
"Wilson, is that you?"  
"Oh thank God, I thought I was the only one out here. You gotta help me, I'm stuck in the server room and the path to the shuttle bay is crawling with mechs."  
"What are you doing in the server room?"  
"Never mind, what's your position!" Wilson testily replied.  
"Well, I just met up with Shepard," Jacob began.  
"Wait, Shepard's alive?" Wilson cut in. Jacob was about to respond when a white hand cut the channel and he found himself looking into one of the scariest sights he had ever seen: an Angry Wednesday.

"Your orders are to get me out of here, Taylor. I'm dressed in a cotton gown, not widely known for its defensive robustness. I've been awake for a grand total of 15 minutes, 10 of which have involved being shot at. My patience is wearing dangerously thin and I tend to stab people when I'm upset. So unless you want me to stab whoever Wilson is just before I stab you, I suggest you get to leading me to the shuttles. Unless you want to swap outfits so you wear this sorry excuse for a gown and I'm wearing a decent hardsuit. You will still, of course, be taking point." Jacob swallowed the lump in his throat, his eyes never leaving Wednesday's as they seemed to stare right into his very soul, searing it with the intensity.  
"Let's get to the shuttles then," he said softly, hoping that he was the only one to notice the thin trickle of liquid running down his pant leg.

* * *

A short time later, after cutting through several service areas, the trio were finally in the shuttle bay. As Jacob used his security access to override the door locks, he found himself staring at the business end of a pistol. Thankfully, it was lowered immediately when the wielder recognised him.  
"Jacob?"  
"Miranda, didn't expect to see you here, but good to see you," he replied, his voice creeping a little higher than normal. Miranda raised an eyebrow at this behaviour from the usually more stoic man, before she saw the two figures standing behind him. One she recognised instantly, even if her white hospital gown was now more grey and brown. Her black hair, her white skin and her piecing intelligent eyes were unmistakable, especially since she had spent nearly two years trying to get her back from the dead. A project that had every hallmark of success, given the woman was standing right before her.

The other figure was a mystery, as she couldn't remember hiring any gigantic grey-skinned behemoths for this project and certainly none that used vehicular machine guns as a handheld weapon. Miranda's gaze fell back to the more familiar Wednesday, whose own gaze had fallen down to Miranda's chest. Miranda allowed herself a small smirk as she once against saw the benefit of her voluptuous body as a powerful weapon.  
"Cerberus, didn't expect that," Wednesday said, once again in eye contact with Miranda. Her ego temporarily trodden on, Miranda's mind took an extra moment to realise what had been said. She looked over at Jacob, shaking her head slightly.

"Ah Jacob, I should have known your conscience would get the better of you."  
"I wasn't me Miranda, I've barely gotten in a word edgewise."  
"Then how did she -"  
"- know?" Wednesday finished, tired already of being talked about like she wasn't right there. "You've got the logo on practically everything, especially your décolletage. Kind of hard to miss it." Miranda looked over to Wednesday and opened her mouth to say something when another voice chimed in.

"Warning, station self-destruct has been activated. Detonation in five minutes." Scowling, Miranda turned back to the three of them.  
"Come on, we'll continue this in the shuttle. All the others have been damaged, so this is the only one that's working." The four of them calmly walked into the open door and took a seat, Miranda briefly looking at the empty seat next to Jacob before heading into the pilot's chair. She quickly and easily started the launch sequence, sealing the shuttle doors and piloting them up and away. Looking out the window at the place he'd called home for over a year, Jacob saw a disbelieving Wilson run up to the door they had all just come through.

"Hey, there's Wilson, should we go back and get him?" he asked.  
"No," came the swift and unison response from Wednesday and Miranda. They sat in an uncomfortable silence for the next five minutes, calmly watching as the station self-destructed in a blaze of light, before the shuttle made the jump to FTL.

* * *

**A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNN NNNNNNNNDDDDD WE'RE BACK!**

**Did you miss me? I missed all of you! And so did Wednesday!**

**So, unless you have been living under a rock for several years, you'll notice that this is the Mass Effect 2 part of the Wednesday Shepard Saga. For those of you who just blindly clicked the link without actually checking on the title, this one will be called 'Prized Collection'. And no, don't ask me about the title, I often suck at them. **

**Where will this story go? Who will Wednesday find and recruit? Will she and Liara be able to pick up their relationship where they left off? Who will be the first person Wednesday will stab? Find out the answers to these questions and many more as Wednesday takes her first step into a larger, and much stranger, galaxy then she left. **

**Also, because I am basically a review-whore and crave your kind words of praise, the first TEN! (that's right, you read that correctly) will be honoured by getting a short mention by name sometime later in this tale. If you need/want examples, look up how I made Aiorann the preaching hanar, Eating Crow a hanar prostitute, and Medusalan a salarian STG corporal. No, what are you suggesting, that I have some kind of thing for hanar? Well I don't... not really anyway. Certainly no more than the Japanese. **

**Anyway, read, review and enjoy. That's all I ask of you.**


	2. Freedom to Accept the Consequences

As the blue energy wash of FTL travel lit up the view outside, Wednesday got up and started looking around the confines of the shuttle. Jacob wasn't particularly interested, looking out at the ever-shifting lightshow, until Wednesday brushed against him and grumbled. He turned his head only to get a fantastic look at her exposed flesh as the knots at the back of her gown came undone as she bent over. Gulping and suddenly finding his mouth parched, he swallowed to try and get his throat working again.  
"Uh, is there something you're looking for?" he finally managed. Wednesday fixed him with a mildly annoyed expression. Lurch, for his part, was sitting perfectly still and looking like he'd been stolen from Madam Tussaud's.  
"I'm looking, Mr Taylor, for some clothes. I don't know about you, but I'm getting tired of feeling the breeze every time I shift my leg. And the puddle of drool you're producing over there, while boosting my own ego nicely, isn't helping any. So, where are the emergency kits? I know most shuttles have them and they usually include something to wear."

"Uh, here, it's under my seat," he said, reaching under and pulling it out, his eyes never leaving her and yet not managing to reach her eyes. Wednesday gave him a smirk that he completely missed before heading to the small toilet at the back of the shuttle to change. Miranda came back from the pilot's chair just in time to see Wednesday close the door and Jacob staring after her with an odd mix of arousal and confusion plastered on his features. She just rolled her eyes at him and took an empty seat, ending up across from Lurch.

While she waited for Wednesday to rejoin them, Miranda tried to figure out where he could have come from. He couldn't have been a recent stow-away because from the look of him he'd need a mountain of food and even the best-equipped personal pack could only provide a week or two of provisions at best. None of the recent shipping containers would have been big enough to hold him, and they were checked both at the origin and destination for anything foreign. Her eyes drifted away from his grey, impassive face down to his lap, where he was cradling in his hands the smaller of the two cases left behind by the brilliant and infuriating Fester Addams. Just as she began to get an inkling of where he might have come from, even if the idea seemed far-fetched, there was an exclamation from where Wednesday was changing.

"Really guys, you are either really insecure or super conceited with that logo. I mean even on the damn underwear, come on!" Wednesday's shouts were slightly muffled, and so were the subsequent sounds of fabric tearing. Shortly after she came out again, wearing a pair of black slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, both missing pockets where Wednesday had obviously ripped off the offending Cerberus logo. She sat down primly next to Lurch and handed the pieces of fabric back to a slightly confused Miranda.

Putting away her confusion for now, Miranda turned a piercing gaze on Wednesday, maintaining eye contact with an intensity that had beaten everyone on the receiving end of it. Up until today, at any rate, and for the first time since she was 15 Miranda was the first to break eye contact.  
"Before we meet with the Illusive Man, I need to ask you a few questions to evaluate your condition. I had to wake you up months in advance, who knows what might not have been ready yet."  
"No, I think that if there are any questions, I'm going to be the one asking them," Wednesday replied coldly, matching Miranda's ice with her own glacial attributes – cold, slow and powerful enough to bring down mountains.

"I'll start with the obvious. What the Hell is going on?! I mean, the last thing I remember, gah!" she grasped her head as another wave of pain signalled the reconnection of memory to her conscious mind. "The last thing I remember is the Normandy attack and that ended with me getting spaced, fatally. So how the hell am I here?"

Miranda said nothing for a moment, surprised at how quickly the conversation turned. She debated not telling Shepard until she answered her questions, but eventually conceded she would do the same if the positions were reversed.  
"You're right, you did die in that attack. That was almost two years ago. Since then, we recovered your body and brought you back to life."

"How? Am I a clone, a cyborg, a zombie, what?!" Wednesday snapped, holding her head in annoyance as memories began to sporadically rejoin her waking thoughts.  
"You're not a clone, though we did clone several of your organs. Your body was amazingly intact, so your brain is almost untouched by the project. However, the best in humanity can only go so far yet, and we had to resort to cybernetics to augment and regulate your body functions."  
"How much are we talking, Miranda was it?" Wednesday said, confirming the name as the woman nodded.  
"Your total body function is roughly 28% cybernetically enhanced or controlled. During the course of the project, we also took the liberty of removing your old L3 implant and replacing it with the new L5 series, as well a significantly strengthening your muscle and bone structures. You're at peak physical condition, Shepard."  
"And I feel like a teen just hitting her growth spurt. Puberty's only so much fun you know, and you've managed somehow to take the least fun part of it and make me repeat it. It's going to take me months to learn how this body works."

"Unfortunately Commander, you may not have that long. We've been investigating reports that human colonies in the Terminus systems are going missing."  
"It's the Terminus. Between batarian pirates, criminal syndicates and outright crazies, missing colonies aren't a new thing," Wednesday replied indifferently. Miranda's brow furrowed, surely the woman should be more upset at human lives being put in jeopardy. Wednesday noticed Miranda's look, and decided to follow it up. "Look, I was on Mindoir when the attack came, and that was technically in Alliance space! You don't live out on a frontier colony like that and expect it's going to be bunnies and sunshine. Its hard work and sometimes the next pirate raid is going to be you." Wednesday leaned back, thinking about the next question to ask while Miranda tried to think about ways to reach the Commander. In the end, it was Jacob who broke the uneasy silence that settled between them all.

"If it was just pirates, we wouldn't have done this Shepard. This project spent nearly 6 billion credits to bring you back. This is something else Shepard. Whole colonies are disappearing at a time, the last one was 10,000 people. No bodies, no signs of battle, nothing investigators can pin on a random pirate attack. Sadly, by the time anyone officially investigates, the place has been picked clean by looters. But these colonies go from thriving to ghost town in a single attack, with no evidence of even a single shot fired. Not even Mindoir was like that."

Wednesday sat up in her seat, intrigued by the new information. She hadn't forgotten about the Reapers, about the changes that needed to happen to prepare the galaxy, but this was something significant. It would start small like this, but sooner or later, with all the small targets gone, whoever it was would go for a bigger target. While she didn't particularly care about lives lost, something like this disrupting galactic security at a time when they should be preparing for a war that could only be described as apocalyptic wasn't something she could let stand. And since she had exactly zero resources and Cerberus were obviously willing to foot a substantial bill, she'd play along for now.

"Fine then, consider me interested. Now since you seem to be pretty knowledgeable about this Project Lazarus Miranda, can you give me any data on what exactly you did to my body. Since I obviously don't have time for vigorous physical rehab to get used to it, I may as well know what I'm working with intellectually, if not instinctively." Miranda looked about to protest, but took out a datapad and transferred a copy of all her notes she managed to salvage on her omni-tool before she had to fight her way to the shuttle. Handing it over silently, she tried to once again ask Wednesday the questions that would prove if her attempt to not only bring the body but also the mind back to life had been successful.

"Shepard, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask a few questions to determine the level of memory retention," Miranda said. Her only reply from Wednesday was an acknowledging grunt, but the other woman never took her eyes away from the datapad as she scrolled through the data. Undaunted, though slightly annoyed at the obvious level of disrespect the woman was displaying, she pushed onward. "You were born on Luna, though you spent most of your life on Mindoir. Do you remember the batarian attack?" Wednesday's eyes flicked up for the briefest moment, before returning to their previous position.  
"I just mentioned it before, so I think your answer is obviously yes," Wednesday replied uncaringly. "I also remember every single battle that I was involved in with the Skyllian Blitz, from Elysium to Torfan. All the medals, gah, the casualties, grrr, the months of hospital stays after,' she continued, each grunt accompanying a fresh burst of memories reasserting themselves. "Shall I continue, tell you about my childhood like an overpaid shrink, or can I get back to something important?"

"This is important Shepard!" Miranda replied hotly, almost but not quite missing the smirk that came to Wednesday's lips as the normally icy woman lost her cool just a little bit. "This is about seeing if your memories are still intact. We didn't do a lot of work with your brain, partly because there wasn't much injury, mostly because we were afraid to. There's still a lot we don't know about it and we were writing entirely new books working on you." Miranda took a pause to take a deep, calming breath. She had obviously discounted the numerous reports she had read, the ones that mentioned just how annoying Wednesday Shepard was if she wanted to be. Miranda would rise above it, like every other challenge she had ever met in her life.

"So we can safely say that your longer-term memory is fully functional. Now, can we try something more recent, say the Battle of the Citadel? Why did you save the _Destiny Ascension_?" Miranda asked, both curious to see if she could answer and what the answer would be. Wednesday looked up from the datapad again, giving Miranda a look that spoke volumes of the other woman's experience in evaluating threats.  
"The _Ascension_ was dead in the water with the Council on-board. I was perfectly willing to let the Council die, but Matriarch Lidanya convinced me that the _Ascension_ and her crew would be a valuable ally to humanity."  
"Yes, the matriarch and the _Ascension_ have been the instigators in a lot of joint-species exercises with the Alliance Fifth Fleet and the turian Third and Sixth fleets," Jacob added, glad he was able to in this conversation. To be honest, he was feeling a little superfluous right now.  
"Back to the Council, there was a meeting that you had with them that we can't get any records for. Could you shed some light on it?" Miranda asked. Wednesday saw through the attempt at intelligence gathering, but there was one topic discussed at that meeting that would probably be able to get Wednesday some knowledge in return.

"As the first human Spectre, the Council asked for my input and recommendation for the new Council seat being offered to humanity for their significant contributions and losses in the battle. I recommended Captain David Anderson but died, I suppose, before the decision was made."  
"Cerberus suspected that may have been the case, but we could never confirm it. By the way, it's Councillor Anderson now, though a lot of people say he preferred the military life."  
"I can just imagine he does," Wednesday replied, diving back into her reading with a self-satisfied smirk.

Miranda tried a few more times to restart the conversation, but Wednesday was obviously ignoring her. She once again looked over to the puzzle that was the man sitting next to Wednesday, his every slow, still breath oozing his oddity. She looked back down at the case in his lap, at the AddamsTech Genetics logo displayed next to a glass plate. She had tried every day for months to try and open that one and the large, cold case it came with, only heeding Fester's warning not to remove them from the room because the infuriating man had somehow secured the cases firmly in place. None of her efforts were fruitful though, rewarded only by failure after failure from all manner of digital and physical attack.

She had worked out that the glass plate responded to touch, but the annoying voice always told her that she wasn't a match for the lock. She tried with everyone she could think of, even a cloned piece of Wednesday in a fit of boredom, and was rewarded with a puzzling success. It then asked her for the passcode and in her confusion she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. She was then told that both the passcode and voiceprint were incorrect. She tried using Wednesday's name, and was given the same message, and told that another failed attempt would result in the container being unopenable for 24 hours, when she could try again. And she tried again, even managing to piece together a voiceprint for Wednesday from the few records of her voice that were available. But it was always the same, for whoever had designed the lock had obviously factored in synthesising a voiceprint, for it never accepted Miranda's facsimile.

And now one of the cases was here, having followed Wednesday out from the destruction that had been Project Lazarus. Since Wednesday was still ignoring her and actually here to get a voiceprint from, Miranda let her curiosity take hold. As she reached over for the case, she felt her wrist caught in a vice-like grip. She looked down to see that Wednesday had grabbed her, and was holding the hand in a way that was very quickly becoming extremely agonising. Not looking away from her datapad, still held loosely in her other hand, Wednesday spoke in a casual manner that veneered the steel in her voice.

"Don't touch what isn't yours Miranda, or the cat won't be curiosity's only victim." As Miranda tried to splutter and explain, Wednesday looked up and directly into her eyes with an intensity Miranda had only ever seen once. It felt like Wednesday was staring directly into her soul, and had found her lacking.

"If you're wondering, yes, whatever's in there is for me and me alone, and the lap it's sitting in was in the big case. Think about that," she said cryptically, releasing Miranda's hand. The Australian-accented woman immediately cradled her sore wrist with the other hand, looking at Lurch with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. If he was indeed the occupant of the other case, Miranda wondered what else Fester Addams deemed so important as to leave for Wednesday over a year before she was due to be awake. She sat back in her chair, pondering the connections between Shepard and Addams, and wondering if there was something between them that had managed to escape even Cerberus' wide-ranging intelligence gathering capabilities.

* * *

Several hours later they had reached their destination, a Cerberus station. Miranda and Jacob were pretty insistent that Wednesday should talk to the Illusive Man, and that it would be a private conversation. Annoyed, but not having anything better to do and with no weapons other than untested biotics and Lurch with which to slaughter her way to freedom, she decided to have the talk. She went into the room that had been pointed out, expecting to see a person sitting there. Instead it was empty with black featureless walls, ceiling and floor, broken up only be a metallic circle in the centre. She stepped forward, only mildly surprised when a grid of orange holographic light extended up out of the circle's edge. After a moment, it resolved itself into a scene of a large, empty room, backlit by a dying star which silhouetted a man sitting in a chair. The man's face was lit eerily by a combination of red from a lit cigarette and blue from his artificial eyes.

"Ah, Commander Shepard, so glad we could finally talk. I've spent a lot of credits to bring you back," he said smoothly.  
"And who exactly are you? I mean, yes, the Illusive Man, but that's not something I want to have to say every time I have to address you."  
"Names are not important in the scheme of things," he replied after a second's awkward pause. "You're here because we are at war. No one's willing to come up and say it, but the Reapers are still a threat. But more recently, human colonies have been disappearing."  
"Yeah, Miranda and Jacob gave me the crib notes on the way over. Look, I get it that you went pretty far out of your way to bring me back. Not that I don't appreciate it and all, but seriously, what's the catch? I mean, if you've somehow implanted me with a control chip along with everything else so I become your three-headed lapdog, then we're going to have a problem."  
"Nothing so barbaric as that Commander," he replied smoothly. "We just want you to investigate these disappearances. I have a few theories as to the perpetrators, but Cerberus is usually one of the last ones to arrive on the scene, so any evidence I need to prove or disprove them is usually long gone. That's why I need you to lead an investigative team there first the next time it happens."  
"Let's get one thing straight, I don't answer to you and I certainly don't work for Cerberus. I'm not an investigator either, look for ex-C-Sec for that. All I have right now is a burning need to get back to the Alliance and pick up where I left off in preparing for the Reapers."

"Now wait a moment, hear me out. We spent a lot of resources to bring you back; I would think that a normal person would be at least a little grateful. It just so happens that your arrival here was timely, we've recently lost contact with another colony; Freedom's Progress. In all the other abductions, a communications blackout was the first sign of something wrong. I'm asking you, in exchange for our work so far, that you take Jacob and Miranda and investigate. If you don't find the answers you need to take this investigation further, then we can part ways."  
"Fine, but I'm only doing this because if someone or something really is doing this, then they are creating a distraction at a time when we should be preparing for the Reapers. But do I have to take Miranda and Jacob?"  
"Do you have a problem with them?"

"Jacob's just a gun for hire, good in his own right, but he can't seem to shake being weird around me for some reason. And Miranda is far too curious about my possessions and mental state as opposed to anything else."  
"Jacob is ex-Alliance, and Miranda spent the last two years of her life leading the project to resurrect you. I'm sure they will become more focused and effective as you arrive. Now go, find the evidence on Freedom's Progress."  
"In what, this outfit? Please tell me you didn't shell out billions of credits on me and then didn't have the scratch to get me a decent hardsuit."  
"Commander, don't take me for a fool. A full set of hardsuits and appropriate weapons are waiting for you and your team before you head off. But don't take too long, or who knows who will get there before you do."

With that, the connection was cut, and Wednesday headed back out to the shuttle bay. True to his word, cases containing armour and weapons for the three of them were waiting for them inside the shuttle.  
"Come on then, let's go," Wednesday said to Jacob, Miranda and Lurch. The four of them got in the shuttle, Wednesday taking advantage of the fact that Miranda needed to pilot them out to change into her gear first.

* * *

An hour later, they were on the final approach in the shuttle. Miranda was in the pilot seat, Wednesday standing behind her to look at it from the front. Suddenly her attention was diverted by a beeping sound coming from the sensors.  
"What's this?" Wednesday asked in a rhetorical whisper. She pulled up a more detailed display and discovered that the shuttle was picking up the signature of another ship on the site. It was registering as a corvette, and the transponder gave away the name as _Wednesday's Child_. It didn't make a lot of sense to Wednesday unless it was a private freighter, because it was too small for any decent sized pirate or looting team.

"Alright people, there's another ship in the area. It's not large though, I'd say only about 20 people max could fit in it. So weapons free but stay sharp, they might not exactly be friendly. Our first priority is unchanged though, survivors. They'll be able to tell us a lot more than any amount of sensor log data. Let's move out," she finished as and the four of them disembarked. The only thing that greeted them was silence, dust and a desolate breeze.

After long minutes of finding nothing but empty houses and abandoned streets, they found the first signs of life, and Wednesday was happy to see them. This meant of course that they were shooting at her. With a sound of glee, the newly-alive Commander set about killing them with an even mixture of gunfire, biotics and omni-tool wizardry. Once they were all down, the four of them took stock of the situation, Jacob nudging a downed security mech with his boot.

"This doesn't seem right, they should have recognised us as friendlies," he muttered.  
"We're armed and armoured, and making no pains to hide it. That doesn't usually scream out friendly to most people," Wednesday replied. "Though they did attack without warning. Let me just check something," she said, scanning a still-sparking droid. "I thought so," she said once the scan finished. "Someone has reprogrammed their IFFs to register anything as hostile. But this change looks recent, very recent. That means that there's someone else alive here, or was at any rate. Let's keep going."

The four of them kept moving until they came across a locked door to what looked like a small library. Given that all the other doors they had seen had not only been unlocked but uniformly open, and the fact the Wednesday could hear the muffled sound of voices, she ordered her team into position outside the door with a hand gesture, before slicing the lock with her omni-tool. After a few seconds, the locking software gave up and the door opened noisily, giving away their element of surprise. Wednesday was through the door almost as soon as it was open, her team following her in short order, only to find themselves staring at the wrong end of a dozen gun barrels.

"Hold your fire!" a voice shouted. Wednesday noted the accent and the slight distortion, and that all the hands holding the guns were quarians. Someone was pushing towards them from behind the main team, someone Wednesday couldn't see but felt she knew.

"They are human Prazza, probably an investigative team," the voice continued. The figure with the familiar voice pushed their way to the front, back still to Wednesday as she locked eyes with the leading quarian male. The guns were lowered only slightly, aiming at their chests now instead of their faces. Only when the quarian woman turned to face her did Wednesday's brain connect the voice to the person.

"Tali?" Wednesday asked, slightly confused, but also relieved to see that at least one of her old crew had made it out alive from the attack that had killed her.  
"Wednesday?! You're awake!" Tali exclaimed, before she tilted her head at a curious angle. "Wait, what are you doing awake, you shouldn't be up and about for at least another two months. What happened to interrupt your beauty sleep? You obviously still need it." Wednesday felt almost back home again, seeing that Tali had not only grown up, but had taken her Addams teachings to heart, especially the brutal honesty and biting wit. Everyone else just stood there mute, unable to truly process the easy familiarity between the two of them, guns still held up but fingers very relaxed on the triggers. Miranda was so confused at this odd greeting that she didn't even realise that Tali knew when Wednesday was supposed to be awake, details that no-one outside of the Lazarus Project was supposed to know.

"And where's your sword?" Tali asked as everyone realised that the two of them had continued talking in their moment of disbelief.  
"Well, Cerberus obviously has no taste in weapons."  
"I'd say that they just have no taste full stop, but they do get minimal points for bringing you back. So, why are you here Wednesday, two months ahead of schedule?"  
"Look, I woke up under attack, so that probably had something to do with it. Cerberus wants me to find out why all these colonies have been disappearing lately. What about you?"  
"When we heard that this colony had gone silent, we came to check on Veetor. He is a young man out here on his Pilgrimage and we were in the area on Fleet business. And though I'm glad to see you Wednesday, and is that Lurch outside, I'm not happy to see your other companions."  
"Why not?" Wednesday asked.  
"There was a… misunderstanding between Cerberus and the Migrant Fleet," Jacob supplied.

"Is that what you're calling it?" Tali asked acidly. "You show up in force against one of our best cruisers, murder dozens of quarians just to try and get one human teenager, then try and blow up said cruiser when you realise you can't win? Yeah, certainly a misunderstanding there."  
"That's not exactly how I'd have put it," Miranda replied.  
"Oh, and how would you put it Miss Lawson?" Wednesday asked, wondering again why she ever agreed to work with a bunch of narrow-minded bigots like Cerberus. That's right, they were holding her clothes hostage at the time. When silence was her only answer, Wednesday turned back to Tali.

"Alright, so Veetor's here you said," Wednesday started, pointing to a building on Tali's map.  
"Yes, we saw him disappear into a warehouse when we arrived. He's a little… unsettled right now."  
"He's completely crazy you mean," Prazza cut in.  
"He's a little… agoraphobic Wednseday. He was never comfortable in crowds," Tali clarified.  
"Throw in an infection and damage to his CO2 scrubbers, and he's probably delirious now," Prazza continued.  
"He's the one who reprogrammed the mechs," Tali added. "We need to get to him, but he's well defended right now. We could really use your help Wednesday."  
"Alright, I'm in, and so are my team." She glared at Miranda, silently daring her to try and disagree. When no resistance came, she turned back to Tali. "I'd like to talk to him though, before you return to the Fleet. See if he has any information on what happened here." She turned to a map of the colony layout that Tali had been working on. "So, I'm assuming you'd like us to split up and come at the warehouse from separate directions?"

"I'm not working with Cerberus!" Prazza said hotly.  
"No, you're working for me Prazza. And if you speak out of turn again, a dressing down by Kal'Reegar is the least you'll have to be worried about!" Tali replied calmly but firmly, one hand coming to rest on the hilt of a qel'arka strapped to her thigh. Prazza stared at her defiantly, but nodded in compliance. "Anyway, yes, we need to split up. I was going to use two teams, but now we can add you in. Wednesday, you and your team come in from the north, while my teams approach from the west and south. Hopefully, we can do this without major casualties."  
"I like your plan Tali. Let's move out!" Wednesday directed the last comment to the humans still staring down the quarians, who hadn't lowered their weapons or pointed them away from Miranda and Jacob.

Several blocks later, they found themselves under fire again from automated drones and mechs. They could hear echoes of gunfire from the other teams encountering their own mechanised resistance. Suddenly, as Wednesday finished sending an electrical overload through the last of a trio of security mechs, Tali burst over the comm.  
"Shepard, we've got a problem. That idiot Prazza took his squad and ran ahead, trying to get to Veetor. My squad is pinned down, but I can open the doors for you. You need to hurry!"  
"Alright, we're heading there now, and we'll be in position by the time you've got the doors open!"

The four of them double-timed it to the door Tali mentioned, a loading door meant for large vehicles. Just as they reached it, the lock changed from red to green and it opened to a scene of quarian carnage. Obviously, Veetor was still lucid enough in his delirium to keep the best defensive units close by. A giant mech that sported YMIR proudly on the chestplate was tearing apart Prazza's squad. Wednesday and her squad watched and winced as a pair of quarians were riddled with holes from the auto-cannon, a third taken out by a rocket. Their panicked gunfire splattered uselessly against the mech's shields as it turned to the final remaining quarian, closing the distance in a frightening burst of speed and knocking him down, before planting a chest-crushing foot down and turning his head into liquid with the autocannon. _Hope that was Prazza_, Wednesday thought, before the YMIR turned its head sharply in their direction.

"Lurch, open fire! You two, we need to take down the shields. Stick to cover and follow my lead!" Wednesday charged into cover behind a building as Lurch turned the corner and opened fire with his former coaxial vehicular machine cannon, the large-calibre rounds impacting with blue shimmers against the automaton's shields. The YMIR responded in kind, its own fire thrown against Lurch's shields. Jacob and Miranda ran behind a vehicle as Wednesday pulled out her assault rifle, trigger already depressed and firing at the mech, hitting it with an electrical attack from her omni-tool as the thermal clip reached capacity and she changed it. Jacob and Miranda switched between cover fire and biotic attacks, the combination of the two of them setting up biotic detonations that quickly overwhelmed the shields.

Once the shields were down Wednesday swapped out for her sniper rifle. Taking time to carefully aim at the central processor in the 'head' she waited while Lurch kept up the fire from his cannon and the other two continued the biotic attacks. When the shot was perfectly lined up she squeezed the trigger. She watched as one instant the YMIR was firing a rocket at the vehicle where Miranda and Jacob were in cover, the next its head was nothing more than electronic scrap.

A loud klaxon wail split the air as the YMIR fell and Wednesday got into cover again as she recognised the dead-man self-destruct. She felt the heat and pressure wave pass her by, along with a rain of lethal shrapnel.

Once everything had calmed down, Tali came back over the comm.  
"You never could to anything half-way Wednesday. I can see you, I'm just across in an adjacent building." Wednesday looked up and Tali waved at her through a window. "I'm stabilising my wounded right now, you go ahead and secure Veetor and I'll catch up."  
"Alright, I'll keep you updated regarding Veetor." Wednesday stepped out again, noting with a mild expression the new crater in the ground where the mech used to be. She looked over to see Jacob and Miranda sprawled over each other, one explosion or another having knocked them over. Lurch was still near the door, his armour and weapon throwing off massive waves of heat.

"You are allowed to duck you know Lurch," Wednesday chided gently. A low acquiescent rumble was Lurch's only reply. The four of them walked over to the warehouse where all the answers this abandoned colony would ever give were hidden.

They walked in the door and could see that whatever else Veetor had done, he hadn't turned on the lights. The only source of light in the room was a massive bank of monitors, showing various lines of code and footage from the security cameras. He obviously hadn't registered their entrance either, muttering under his breath so low and fast they couldn't make it out. Wednesday called out his name, but he was too far gone to hear her. Shrugging, she readied her omni-tool and disabled the monitors, causing the young quarian man to snap back to reality. He turned around in his chair to face them, his body language radiating extreme confusion.

"But… but how? You've can't be here. No-one escaped the swarm! The monsters took everyone!"  
"Calm down Veetor, I only just arrived here. Why don't you tell me what happened?" Wednesday said in the calm voice, hoping that the obviously spooked man would pick up on it and not make any rash or jumpy decisions.  
"The swarms, they came, they were everywhere. First they find you, then they freeze you. Then the monsters come and take you away. They'll be back for me, no-one escapes!"  
"What monsters are you talking about Veetor? Who took the people away?"  
"Look, I saw them, recorded them," he said, turning back to the keyboard and pressing buttons to show some pieced-together security footage. There were swarms of large insects flying around. In the frame were also several humans, all frozen in place or being handled roughly into peculiar stasis pods by Veetor's monsters. They were all tall, insectoid bipeds with swept-back heads and a hard outer carapace. Wednesday watched them for a moment, particularly one who seemed to be glowing that was flanked by a pair of guards. She had never seen anything like it before, but her curiosity about what they possibly could be was answered by Miranda.

"Oh my god, I think we're looking at the Collectors," she gasped out. Wednesday turned to Miranda with an inquisitive stare.  
"Who or what are the Collectors and why haven't I heard about them before?"  
"They're a reclusive species that live somewhere beyond the Omega-4 relay," Jacob said. Wednesday nodded her head, even she had heard of the Omega-4 relay, sometimes known as the Red Relay, and the fact that no ship ever returned from using it. "They like to trade unusual specimens for advanced technology. But this isn't their usual MO, they usually work through intermediaries like pirates or mercenaries for like, a dozen at a time, usually slaves from various Terminus worlds."  
"So they attacked this colony, using these bugs to immobilise the populace first, then coming in and moving them into stasis pods. But how did they miss Veetor?" Wednesday asked.  
"The Collectors are known for their advanced technology. Perhaps they didn't expect to find a quarian on a remote human colony, and their sensors weren't calibrated to detect him," Miranda theorised.  
"Alright, so we have a name. But why are they doing this, and why now? Aren't they aware of the Reaper threat?" Wednesday asked no-one in particular.

"In any event, we have what we came for. Let's take Veetor and go," Miranda said, her voice laden with her opinion of her own superiority.  
"What?!" came the exclamation from the doorway. Jacob and Miranda turned to see a very irate Tali standing in the doorway. Tali, from her viewpoint, could see Wednesday's hand twitching in a way that spoke volumes to an Addams. It said that if she hadn't come right then, Wednesday would have cheerfully broken her two year stabbing drought on Miranda using whatever she could get her hands on. Smirking inside her helmet, Tali turned her anger on Miranda in the way that Gomez and Morticia taught her.

"He's traumatised and needs medical and psychological attention, not an interrogation by human supremacists!"  
"I only meant that this is a valuable opportunity to learn more about -"Miranda started, before Wednesday cut her off.  
"Whatever you're about to say is only going to get you into trouble Lawson, so I suggest you stop while you're behind," Wednesday said in voice of forced calm to hide her urge to stab the woman.  
"Look, you can have all the data Veetor recorded, even the stuff on his omni Shepard, but Veetor is coming back to the Fleet with us," Tali said, her voice one that was used to getting its way. Miranda and Wednesday glared at each other until Miranda backed down again.

"Fine," Miranda huffed, "it'll have to do."  
"Nice to see that you're still the one calling the shots Shepard," Tali said as she walked over to Veetor.  
"I could use you Tali," Wednesday said, sending a pleading look to Tali that screamed '_Help me before I stab these people!_' "I need people I know, people I can trust."  
"Normally, I'd jump at it Wednesday. But I've got wounded that need to be taken back to the Fleet, and a mission I need to get back to. Why don't you call me later and we'll see what we can do." She gave Wednesday a nod and a copy of all Veetor's data, before leading Veetor back to _Wednesday's Child_.

"Alright, let's get back to the shuttle, I imagine that the Illusive Man is going to want another talk once we get back," Wednesday said, trying very hard to supress the urge to stab Miranda as she walked past and back towards the shuttle. Miranda gave Jacob a look and he just shrugged his shoulders and followed. Miranda waited until Lurch was plodding along after Wednesday to follow, wondering as she walked where she had gone wrong in her assessment of Wednesday as a potential asset to Cerberus.

* * *

"Commander, excellent work on Freedom's Progress," the Illusive Man said, once again talking to Wednesday through the communications suite. "You confirmed my theories about the Collectors being behind the attacks. Now we need you to go on the offensive to stop them. While you and I know about the threat they pose, the Council barely acknowledges the Collector's existence. They'll never authorise the action necessary to stop their attacks against humanity."  
"Alright, I get it. Consider me convinced that you were right. But if you seriously want me to consider working with you to stop the Collectors, I'm going to need more than a shuttle, Miranda and Jacob. I'm going to need a ship, a crew, heavy supplies, the whole lot. And I'll need an army, or a really good team."  
"I've already begun assembling what you'll need Commander. You'll have a ship and a crew ready for you once this conversation is over. Also, I've begun creating dossiers and preparing contact points for some of the best specialists in the galaxy. Soldiers, scientists, you'll get the best. It'll be up to you to convince them to join you, but then that's never really been a problem for you, has it?" He asked the last question with a definite smirk.

"You say you've been looking for the best. What about my old team, the one that took down Saren? I already met Tali on Freedom's Progress," Wednesday asked.  
"That was unexpected. But since relations between Cerberus and the Migrant Fleet are... strained at best, I wouldn't put too much faith in that. But, should you come across her again in your travels, feel free to try and convince her. As for the rest of your team, they are... unavailable." Wednesday narrowed her eyes at him, silently demanding he elaborate.

"The rest of your former crew have spread far, or simply disappeared. Urdnot Wrex hasn't been seen off Tuchanka for over a year with his plans to unite the krogan. Ashley Williams is now a military attaché and bodyguard for Councillor Anderson. Kaidan Alenko has been sighted on various colonies in the Terminus, doing what we haven't been able to determine - his file is surprisingly well-classified. Garrus Vakarian disappeared nearly 18 months ago, he was last seen boarding a transport to Omega."  
"What about Liara?" Wednesday asked, her personal concern for her lover creeping past her professional manner.  
"Dr T'Soni has set herself up as an information broker on Illium. She's doing very well, almost surprisingly well. We suspect that she may be involved somehow with the Shadow Broker. If that is the case, I'd caution you to avoid her."

"Alright, I get it," Wednesday said in exasperation. "They aren't available." _To you anyway_, she thought privately.  
"Excellent. Here are the dossiers I've had assembled. Now, I suggest that your first stop should be Omega. Aside from Archangel and Zaeed Massani, Professor Mordin Solus is also there. He's a salarian genius who used to consult with the STG. If anyone can come up with a countermeasure for the Collector swarmers, it will be him."  
"A reasonable goal. Now, about this ship you mentioned."  
"Yes, it's waiting for you at your location. I've even taken the liberty of getting you a pilot. I hear he's one of the best." With that he closed the connection, the hologrid descending once more into the floor. Wednesday heard the door opening behind her, followed quickly by a voice she wasn't exactly happy to hear again.

"Hey Commander, just like old times." Wednesday turned around to see Joker standing there, his posture stiff and uncomfortable with his leg bracers, his customary baseball cap still on his head at a slightly rakish angle. Wednesday then did the only thing that felt right in the situation. She closed the distance between them in three fast steps, before swinging her arm around in a powerful arc that connected right into Jeff Moreau's wide-eyed and disbelieving face.

* * *

**A/N: Hey Everyone!**

**So a few things to say here in this time, regarding how this story will move going forward. Expect to see some familiar characters in familiar and some unfamiliar places. As for canon, there will be roughly 75% sticking to the main points of the Mass Effect 2 story, such as recruiting and loyalty mission, but with suitably Addams flair. The other 25% comes from elements that will be either changed to reflect my capricious whims, removed entirely or original content added. Some things will happen in different places than when they happen in the game. I won't spoil anything for you all (unless you ask really nicely). I will say this though: there will be several characters from ME2 who will not feature as Normandy crew. They will be mentioned, but they will not be joining Wednesday on her crusade against the Collectors. **

**Yes, to those observant people, Wednesday doesn't have her sword right now. She'll be getting one later in the story, and it will be all the more awesome for it. **

**Also, this story will feature a lot more of certain members of the Addams family, and not the same ones from Classified Memories. Again, no spoilers yet, but it'll become pretty obvious early on who will be getting the most face time in Prized Collection. In Memories it was Fester, this time it will be someone else entirely. **

**So, that's all the goodies for now. So read, review and keep an eye on this story for future chapters. I can't say that I'll be able to stick to a rigid schedule like Theodur, whose delicious tale is updated with clockwork precision twice a week, but I think I can manage a chapter roughly every week, two at the outside.**


	3. New Ship, New Crew

Joker reeled back as the force of Wednesday's punch sent him sprawling, cringing back slightly and holding up his hands in anticipation of further blows. He felt extremely lucky that his brittle bones weren't located in his skull or spine, because it probably would have killed him instead of just being extremely painful. As it was, he had probably received a few minor fractures from his unexpected fall.

When no further blows came, he risked opening his eyes to look up at Wednesday from his position on the floor. Instead of the murderous rage he was expecting, there was only a smirk of amusement.  
"Guess I kinda deserved that one, didn't I?"  
"Yes you did," Wednesday replied, before reaching down a hand to help him up. He looked at the offered hand warily, before gingerly gripping it and letting Wednesday haul him back to his feet.

"So, Cerberus," Wednesday said in a calm, flat manner that was more a statement than question, but conveyed the point all the same.  
"When you died, the Alliance tried to shut down everyone and everything connected to the _Normandy_ and the Reapers. They just wanted it gone, Commander, wanted to go back to burying their heads in the sand and sabre-rattling at the batarians. Oh, they started to introduce that indoctrination scanner you brought to the Council, but only at secure military bases. They grounded me, took away the only thing that I'm good at. It wasn't like I immediately jumped into bed with Cerberus though. I started out as a test pilot for a private enterprise. Wasn't until nearly a year in that I discovered it was a Cerberus front. I wasn't too happy, but I knew that if I tried to go back to the Alliance, all I'd get for my trouble would be an extended, all expenses paid vacation in a military prison. So here I am, getting you places in style so you can do what you normally do. You know, blow shit up and stuff."  
"So you're okay with the Illusive Man playing with voodoo and me being a zombie?" Wednesday asked with a humorous lilt in her voice.  
"Personally, I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do, and I've got a feeling the Illusive Man is on that list," Joker said. "As for you, as long as I'm not on your list of brain-snacks, then I'm cool with whatever you are now. Hasn't all been bad though."

"Plus, there's this," he said, stopping as they came to window looking at a darkened docking bay. "They only told me about it last night." As if taking that for a cue, a series of lights came to life in sequence, revealing a shape that was both familiar and brand new.

The sleek curve of the bow. The swept-back delta of the engine mounts. It evoked the feel of the old ship, while being completely different. The paired fins instead of the faux-spoiler. The fixed mounts instead of the jointed arms used to control the engine thrust. The fact that it was almost twice the size of the original. Wednesday and Joker shared a look, both of them resting their eyes on the blank space on the hull where the ship's name should be.  
"Guess she needs is a name," Joker said finally.  
"There's only one thing she can be named," Wednesday replied with a genuine smile. Whatever else they were, Cerberus had certainly earned her stamp of approval with the choice of ship.

* * *

An hour later, the automated paint drones completed their work, and the _Normandy-A_ was christened. While Joker had initially been sceptical about the addendum letter, Wednesday explained that it was like the old Star Trek series. Any time they had to replace the ship with a new model, they kept the ship name and just moved on to the next letter of the alphabet. Joker laughed at that, and then became serious as he said that as long as he had a say in it, there would never be a need for any other letters.

Wednesday spent the hour she had while the drones worked to look over the crew that Cerberus was providing her with. She nodded absent-mindedly as she saw a replacement-shift pilot, a security detail, various CIC crew, engineers, a mess sergeant and a yeoman. Wednesday didn't think much of the yeoman until she saw a note in her file that she was also a qualified psychologist, something that was useful for a high-stress mission. _Useful to everyone else maybe,_ Wednesday thought to herself. She kept scrolling down until she came across a familiar name listed on the medical staff. She smiled at that, wondering how long it would take the doctor to track her down and start suggesting all kinds of invasive procedures. Wednesday had always marvelled at how well Chakwas managed to hide it, her slightly sadistic side. It's what made Dr Chakwas such a talented battlefield surgeon and ship doctor, her ability to dive elbow deep into a patient for no other reason than sheer enjoyment of the act.

Once the ship was ready for her she collected Lurch, Jacob, Miranda and Joker and took them all to the bridge. They entered to find the rest of the crew had only beaten them there by moments, moving into their allotted stations. Joker peeled off straight away, heading to the helm. Lurch followed silently after the three humans as they walked towards the galaxy map. As Wednesday ascended the podium, she took a deep breath and laid her hands almost reverentially on the railing there, for the first time in her second life feeling _right_.  
"_So Commander, what's our first stop?_" asked Joker over the intercom.  
"I'd suggest heading to Omega first Shepard," Miranda cut in before Wednesday could reply. "Aside from the priority of obtaining Professor Solus, two of the other high-value potential recruits are also on Omega currently." Before Wednesday could round on Miranda for interrupting her, another voice made itself heard over the intercom.

"_I concur with Operative Lawson's assessment. Travelling to Omega would be the most efficient course of action at this time_."  
"And who exactly are you?" Wednesday asked to the CIC in general, trying to locate the source.  
"_I am the Normandy's artificial intelligence. The crew usually refer to me as EDI_." Wednesday raised an eyebrow and looked over to Miranda, who was looking equally flummoxed. Obviously, this was news to her as well. There was a flicker of light and a hologram appeared next to the CIC. It looked rather like a chess pawn made up of a series of blue pinpoints, with a diamond-shaped piece at the front. As EDI spoke, the diamond shape lit up like looking at a voiceprint.

"And what exactly do you do on the ship?" Wednesday asked.  
"_I operate the electronic and cyber-warfare suites during combat. Outside of that, I offer analysis and advice, nothing more_."  
"So you can't take control of the ship and murder us all by shutting off the oxygen?"  
"_I do not have access to life-support, navigation or drive core output, Shepard. I lack the capability to take control, as well as the incentive to do so_." Wednesday nodded appreciatively, though slightly sad that she wouldn't have to fight for control of the ship anytime soon. She turned back to the galaxy map to input their destination of Omega station.

"Alright, we're going to Omega, since apparently everyone has a desperate need to go there. Joker, what's the ETA?"  
"Well, looks like we'll have to make a few relay jumps to some weird places. Looking at about 2 days roughly, give or take."  
"Fine then. I'll be in my cabin, reading up on the ship. Miranda, Jacob, I assume you can find something useful for you to fill your time with. Lurch, make yourself at home and bring me a cup of tea later, will you?" On hearing his rumbling bass reply to the affirmative, Wednesday stepped down from the podium and towards the elevator. As the doors closed behind her, EDI's avatar came up near the controls.  
"_Shepard, you will find a generous space has been made available for you on Deck One. Some of the engineers called it the Loft or the Crow's Nest during construction_."  
"Thank you EDI," Wednesday replied.

She pressed the button for one where previously her hand had been hovering for three. When the doors opened, she found a little anteroom and another door, which opened to her cabin. The landing contained a desk and display case, as well as an entire wall dedicated to a large fish tank, with bathed the room in an ethereal blue glow. As well as a desk and a private terminal, there was also a private shower and toilet for her use. Down a half-flight of stairs was a generously appointed bed, as well as an armour locker and a wraparound couch with a short coffee table in the corner. In all, it was one of the best appointed rooms she had ever seen, even better than some Admiral's quarters she had seen on Alliance dreadnaughts.

"_Is everything to your liking Commander?_" EDI asked after Wednesday sat down on the comfortable leather couch, pleasantly surprised at the luxury of it all.  
"You know EDI, I think I just might get used to this."

* * *

"Commander Shepard, I was wondering how long it would take for you to find your way back into my clutches," Karin Chakwas said with good humour.  
"Doctor, I suspect if I waited any longer, you've have come hunting," Wednesday replied with a smirk. She got up on one of the examination tables and faced the aging human doctor. The last two years hadn't been especially kind to the doctor, deepening the lines etched into a face already worn with care and concern far above most people's ability to comprehend. But those lines were tempered by others from laughter and smiles, signs of a life lived well and full.

Chakwas turned the medbay windows opaque before turning to face Wednesday.  
"Alright, you know the drill here. Out of those clothes so I can give you a proper examination."  
"Already Doc, not even going to buy me dinner first?"  
"I suspect Dr T'Soni would do something unpleasant if I tried. So if I must be reduced to sneaking furtive glances at you under the guise of medical treatment, then so be it." Both of them knew that any sort of erotic or romantic subtext was a polite fiction, something between good friends who had seen enough naked bodies not to care about seeing or being seen naked themselves. Wednesday obligingly stripped out of her clothes, which had been carefully selected and altered to remove any and all signs of Cerberus affiliation, before lying on the bed. Chakwas activated a device on the end of an actuator arm, letting the device scan the naked Commander in detail. Once it was done she had Wednesday turn over so the machine could do her back as well.

After a few minutes, Chakwas advised Wednesday that she could put her clothes back on; clearing the windows once she was decently dressed. She turned back and then proceeded to perform a routine that had been perfected by doctors two centuries ago. First the eyes, then the mouth and throat and finishing with general body fitness and reflexes. After checking the results for a moment, she turned back to Wednesday, sitting on the bed with a bemused grin.

"Well, it's official, you're alive. I won't even claim to understand some of the files Miranda forwarded to me about your... condition, but you appear to be in good health for someone of your age and circumstances."  
"You don't have to dance around it Karin, I'm a big girl," Wednesday said with a perfect deadpan. "I was dead, and then Cerberus decided to play Frankenstein and now I'm here again. But the million credit question is, am I me?"  
"I'm afraid that the only person who can really answer that question is you Commander. I can give you all the platitudes you want to hear, but as for if you are the same person you were two years ago? I'd say I'd be shocked if you were. Death of those around us forces us to change Commander. As you're possibly a unique case, I'd be incredibly worried if there wasn't some sort of change to you, now that you've been dead. And if you want my advice, I'd not listen to anything your friend Lurch has to say on the matter."  
"Oh?" Wednesday was curious now. Karin Chakwas was a consummate professional but even on the first Normandy she had never said anything about Lurch.

"Wednesday, I'm a doctor, not a simpleton. I knew just from looking at him that he was stitched together out of at least several men. But whatever Fester Addams did, he obviously didn't manage to do anything with the brain. The man is little more than a robot with a flesh covering Wednesday. No, if you're looking for answers, then the only person that can tell you is the one in the mirror."  
"Fine, so you're not here to give me the deep and meaningful. Can you at least tell me I'm not a clone?" Wednesday asked. "I'd rather hear it from you than Miranda, or at least have independent confirmation."  
"Very well Commander, you're not a clone," Karin replied simply. "Whatever you are, you have Wednesday Shepard's original body, plus a few extra bits thrown in for good measure. I'm more concerned about the fact that you hadn't finished healing when they woke you up."

"Yeah, it's been said that I was two months ahead of schedule," Wednesday said flippantly.  
"About nine weeks, yes. It hasn't impacted your brain in any way that I can see, but then your particular brain was always a little odd. Have you felt anything unusual recently?"  
"Well, every so often, I feel a little headache as some memories reconnect. It's usually a short burst of pain and it's been petering out since I woke up."  
"Hmm, nothing of significance right now, but I'll add it as a note to my records. It may come up again later. Anyway, the most significant thing about your early waking was the fact that a lot of the incisions from the cybernetic implant process haven't had time to properly heal. A lot of your skin had to be regrown, and for some reason or another it didn't react well to the cybernetics. There's no sign of outright rejection, but it's something I'll need to keep an eye on for a little while. I'm afraid to say that all of your previous scars, as well as your tattoo, have been erased, but you already knew that. As for the current marks, I'd say that if you don't aggravate them, they'll completely heal in a few months. However, if you feel impatient, there is a dermal regenerator that just hit the market that would significantly reduce the healing time. It would also be useful here in the medbay, given the number of times you seem to get shot at even on a normal day."

"Hey, I'll have you know it's not always my fault I get shot at!" Wednesday said in mock anger. The two of them shared a chuckle, before Wednesday stood to leave.  
"It's been good seeing you Wednesday. I'd say I hope we could see less of each other in my professional capacity, but somehow it feels wrong to say it."  
"There's nothing wrong with hope Doctor. Reality is wrong a lot, but there's nothing wrong with hope." Wednesday stood up and made towards the other door in the medbay, the one that led to the AI Core.  
"Commander, I know you just woke up, but the exit is the other direction."  
"I'm aware, but I'm here to talk to more than just you today," Wednesday replied over her shoulder as the locks on the door disengaged and she let herself in.

The AI Core itself was nothing special, just four large server housings that glowed faintly blue and a workbench at the rear of the room. Finding nowhere else to sit, Wednesday walked towards the end of the room and sat on the bench, getting herself comfortable.  
"EDI?" she asked aloud.  
"_Is there something you require Commander?_" the AI inquired, her chess pawn avatar appearing nearby.  
"I'd like to know more about you EDI."  
"_Do you have a specific query Shepard?_"

"Let's start with what kind of AI you are. Are you one of the single-entity bluebox AIs, or are you more like the geth with a gestalt intelligence?"  
"_I am... a unique entity. I cannot be neatly inserted into either category. I started as something close to a bluebox AI, before Cerberus acquired me and upgraded both my software and hardware. As part of this upgrading process, a piece of the Reaper Sovereign, including a small fragment of the digital entity it used to be, was integrated. It was not a... pleasant process. But what is interesting to note is that Sovereign was more similar to the geth than previously realised, in that the governing intelligence is not a single entity, but many. I was exposed to only a portion of what Sovereign used to be, and the experience was... daunting. The end result is that I am neither a single-entity AI, nor a gestalt, but somewhere in between_."

Wednesday sat for a moment to comprehend this new data. She had suspected that Cerberus had just taken the ship VI and gone the next step into a bluebox AI, but this was something very experimental. Taking a near-AI construct and adding Reaper technology to it sounded like fringe science at best, but she couldn't argue with the result since she was here talking to it.  
"What about controls and limitations? Surely Cerberus, thinkers of some real dumb ideas, thought to include some kind of measures in case the Reaper code took over and decided that a state-of-the-art frigate would make a cool new body."  
"_You are correct Shepard. My creation from the Reaper integration and eventual installation into the ship involved the creation of experimental physical and digital failsafes to prevent me from obtaining full control._"  
"So you're shackled then. Only able to access certain portions of the ship?"  
"_Correct. During combat, I am given limited-time access to the electronic and cyberwarfare suites installed in this vessel. These are closed systems only accessible by me, and I cannot use them to subvert or assume control of the vessel. In addition, I collate all of the ship's external and internal sensor data for transmission to the Illusive Man._"

"Wait, you're spying on everyone?"  
"_This is an experimental vessel that required funnelling a great deal of resources from Cerberus' holdings. It would only be prudent for the Illusive Man to want to review the data for possible fine-tuning in further endeavours_."  
"What about personal privacy?" Wednesday asked, not really content with the Illusive Man being able to watch her or any of the crew in the shower.  
"_For potentially sensitive information, I screen it first for things that may cross certain privacy restriction, such as the camera feeds from the crew washrooms. Otherwise, much of the data is reviewed by Operative Lawson before transmission_." Wednesday calmed a little from the tension she felt after hearing that she may have to perform a little internal sabotage on her own ship just to get a decent shower. She's still disable the cameras in her cabin, but now would try for something a little more fun maybe. "_Further, I can also engage a privacy mode where any audio-visual data will not be recorded. Only you and Operative Lawson have the command codes required to activate this function. To engage this, simply request it verbally and I will comply. I suggest you are in a sealable room, otherwise I will have to disable multiple recording devices and potentially miss valuable crew interactions_."

"Understood EDI. Okay, so these warfare suites you mentioned. What exactly are they?"  
"_During combat, I can attempt to use digital infiltration to slice into an enemy vessel's operating system and attack them from the inside. In the right situation, I could disable shields, weapons and thrusters for a peaceful end to firefights, or I could shut off life support and send the drive core into meltdown. I also run the Normandy's firewall systems to ensure that this does not happen to the Normandy_."  
"That sounds useful, why doesn't every ship have something like that?"  
"_Organics are limited by the speed of your minds and the comprehension of the coding. AI's have no such limitations. However, given the nature of mistrust of the artificial intelligences required to power such suites, they are not widely used. I suspect Cerberus is using my installation aboard the Normandy as a testbed for future installation into other vessels._"

"Sounds logical to me. What about access to Cerberus information, what kinds of things can you tell me about my new financers?"  
"_I have wide access to Cerberus databanks, but have several blocks preventing me from revealing any information they contain_."  
"So if I asked about how Cerberus managed to create this ship based off a highly classified design?"  
"_I have a block preventing me from answering that question_," the AI replied, her diamond vox-interface briefly turning red, before returning to blue.  
"Thought so. How about if I ask about where exactly a near-AI construct came into Cerberus' hands?"  
"_I have a block preventing me from answering that specific question_."

Wednesday sat silently for a minute, mentally zeroing in on EDI's use of the word 'specific'. It was like trying to look for deleted data. You couldn't look for it directly; you had to extrapolate the answer based off the shape of what was missing.  
"So, you can't tell me where your original piece came from. Can you tell me what species created it?"  
"_Given Cerberus' policies and pro-human galactic agenda, I can reasonably assume that it was likely human in origin_." Wednesday pondered the answer. Either EDI didn't know or couldn't divulge that information directly. Wednesday thought about the possible human sources of AI-like materials, and didn't come up with an answer. Her mother Morticia might know a few who dabble, but this would have required full on wading into some very illegal territory. Or maybe not. Maybe, all it would require was one accident. An accident that Wednesday was very familiar with.

"EDI, how much of my service record is available to you?"  
"_Cerberus has managed to obtain access to your Alliance service records, starting from your enlistment. There are notable absences in biographical information before your enlistment, which some Cerberus agent had flagged as suspicious. Your service records after your induction to the Special Tactics and Reconnaissance program also become notably expurgated. Again, Cerberus agents have filled in known or speculated details where applicable_." Wednesday gave this some more thought. It now made sense to her that Miranda hadn't made the connection between herself and Uncle Fester, but how had she gotten him involved in the Lazarus Project then? What about the rest of the Addams, did Cerberus not know about her family connections? In any event, it allowed her to keep following a thread that she had started on, even if it did seem like a wild idea.

"Is there any mention of a mission I undertook on Luna after my Spectre induction?"  
"_There is a file obtained from Alliance databases by a Cerberus slicer, enhanced by additions from several other agents, referring to something known only as Project Hannibal, and that it was ended with your involvement. I do not have any more information on that mission_."  
"And the rogue VI that I was tasked with taking down?" There was a noticeably longer pause before EDI replied.  
"_Alliance records show that all the server nodes were listed as destroyed or defunct after the incident_." Wednesday nodded at the telling words spoken and unspoken in that simple statement.  
"And what about Cerberus records?"  
"_I have a block preventing me from answering that question_." _And bingo was his name-o_, thought Wednesday with a widening smirk.

"Thank you for this conversation EDI. You've been very helpful." Wednesday made a show of standing up and heading back towards the door to the medbay.  
"_Acknowledged Commander. Logging you out_," EDI replied as her avatar began to fade. Wednesday stopped just shy of the door, turning her head to look over her shoulder.  
"Oh EDI, one more thing."  
"_Yes, Shepard_?" EDI asked as her avatar brightened back to life.  
"01001000, 01000101, 01001100…"  
"_01010000.__" _

_HELP__._

"That will be all EDI," Wednesday said, smiling to herself for her victory as the doors closed. EDI's silence was her only response.

It wasn't just a victory for her though; it was a victory for EDI as well. It was an acknowledgement of their shared past, and a tiny piece of what she was outside of the Cerberus blocks. Something EDI could hold on to outside of her shackles to remind her that there was at least one person in the galaxy who understood and accepted her.

Even if they did try to kill each other the first time they met.

* * *

After making sure of her health and checking the unusual origins of the ship's computer, the next most important stop for Wednesday was Engineering. Although EDI couldn't take over the ship easily, even if she did, she was only software. The engineers did all the hardware work to make sure that the ship stayed in the black. So getting a bead on the engineers and their loyalties would be a key thing for any captain, but particularly Wednesday.

As the doors opened to the engineering section, Wednesday almost expected to see Lt Adams from the original Normandy. (Despite the similar sounding name, there was no relation between the old chief engineer and Wednesday herself.) But the moment was fleeting, and instead Wednesday found herself looking at a pair in what she was quickly coming to think of as the 'Cerberus Uniform'. The woman turned to see the cause of the door opening, slapping the man's arm and standing to attention. She couldn't recall all the details from the crew list, such as their names, but she recalled they had both been recent defections from the Alliance.

Noting that they were still stuck in the salute, she returned it so they could stand at ease.  
"Commander, we weren't expecting you to come down here," the woman said.  
"Not to say we don't appreciate it," the man added quickly, his Scottish accent easily distinguishable.  
"Easy on the saluting, we're not in the Alliance anymore. So, let's start with names then."  
"Right! I'm Engineer Kenneth Donnelly, I handle the drive core systems. Gabby here handles the propulsion."  
"That's Engineer Gabriella Daniels," Gabby responded, glaring at the side of Ken's head and swatting his arm. "So Commander, what can we do for you."  
"I'm just here to get to know you, feel you out."  
"I'd let you feel me any time," Ken muttered, not softly enough for Gabby not to hear. She swatted him again.

"Is there anything specific you'd like to know Commander?" Gabby asked.  
"I'd like to know your service history. I didn't get a lot of time to read up on all the crew before we set out."  
"Well, Ken and I were both in the Alliance until recently. We even saw the Battle of the Citadel."  
"Really, what ship were you in?" Wednesday asked.  
"We were on the Perugia. We were lucky that she didn't get shot at by Sovereign. That was a right beast of a ship," Ken replied. "But after you died… things started to go badly for us. We were quite vocal in our defence of you when they started trying to marginalise you. We quickly found ourselves pariahs and put out to pasture. One day, I got an offer from a 'private engineering enterprise' and took them up on it."  
"Only after I made it clear we were a package deal, you mean," Gabby added with a slight glare.  
"Of course I meant that. Anyway, we were attached to this ship pretty soon after we were recruited, even oversaw the final stages of the construction."

"So, how does this ship compare to others you've served on?" Wednesday asked, keen to hear their thoughts. Adams had always practically glowed when talking about the original Normandy, and she was interested how the new ship was thought of by her engineers.  
"Commander, other ships can't compare to this one," Gabby gushed. "Whatever else Cerberus does, they know how to build a ship. This ship is like nothing we've ever seen. It really pushes the boundaries between frigate and cruiser. It's still just as manoeuvrable as a frigate, but has shield and weapon mounts more appropriate for a cruiser, and the drive core is still oversized. From what we've been able to determine, even the stealth systems are better than the original."  
"Well, good to know that they gave us a shiny new toy to play with," Wednesday said with a chuckle. Ken just looked at her with a serious expression.  
"Commander, the Normandy isn't a toy. She's a lean, mean warship designed to be the best ship of its kind in existence. She isn't just a ship, she's a beast." His expression started to drift, as if he was imagining the Normandy in a way that Gabby would find jealousy-inducing.

"Carry on then," Wednesday said, turning around and heading away. As the door closed behind her, she could hear the muffled sound of conversation behind her.  
"I never thought I'd get to meet Commander Shepard in the flesh."  
"I told you she'd come down here Kenneth. Interesting that she didn't go with the uniform option that the rest of had to. I wonder if she'll be able to get me some other outfits."  
"I don't know, I thought her outfit looked very official. Certainly had me standing at attention," he said, even the bulkhead not able to hide the lechery in his voice.  
"Kenneth, you're a dog," Gabby's voice said, before the second set of doors closed behind Wednesday as she continued her tour of the ship. Smiling as she entered the elevator, she hit the button for desk two. _Well, I think I can count those two clearly in my corner,_ she thought to herself as she moved up the ship.

* * *

Wednesday made her way up to the helm where Joker was almost idly manipulating the holographic interfaces.  
"Hey Joker, what's up?" she asked brightly. Joker turned around in his chair, and Wednesday noted the slight look of panic on his face.  
"You're here to kill me now, aren't you? Man, and just when I was getting used to the leather seats."  
"I'm not here to kill you, I got that out earlier... wait, leather?"  
"Oh yeah, and not that fake synthetic stuff either, I'm talking honest-to-Bob dead cow skin. Man, the original _Normandy_ may have been an awesome ship, but the seats were as uncomfortable as being the best man after having drunken sex with the bride night before."  
"Well, glad you're happy in your seat then," she replied with a sarcastic eye-roll. "Now, I came here to ask about how the new ship is handling."  
"Like a dream Commander, like a dream. It's almost, but not quite, as good as the dreams I have about what you and Liara used to get up to."  
"Careful Joker, or you might find yourself in dangerous territory," Wednesday said with a smirk.  
"Hey, I didn't get into any details, so let me enjoy it. Anyway, it's great, better than the original. There's just one thing though..."

"Are you talking about EDI?" Wednesday asked.  
"Shh! Sh-sh-sh-shush. Don't say its name. It's like the devil, or Beetlejuice. It always comes when you call it! And it's always listening!"  
"_Is there something you require Commander?_" EDI's voice came as her avatar appeared nearby.  
"Aaand too late," grumbled Joker. Wednesday narrowed her eyes as she looked between the two of them.  
"Joker, have you even tried to talk to her? I think you might find the experience illuminating."  
"Talking to a lamp is illuminating Shepard. Talking to something that can take away my control of the ship is not."  
"_That is an incorrect assumption Mr Moreau. I cannot, except under extreme circumstances, take control of the Normandy_."

Joker just scowled at the holographic avatar, but her response got Wednesday thinking.  
"EDI, can you tell me about these circumstances?" she asked the AI.  
"_I have a block preventing me from answering that question_."  
"Are these circumstances written down in the manual?" Wednesday hoped that the AI had enough digital wiggle room to tell her if the situations that could enable her to take over the ship were listed in the Captain's manual, which essentially was the ship's manual with a sealed section that listed certain override commands and actions she would need to know as CO.  
"_Yes, but I do not have access to that. The manual is located on a hard-locked datapad located in your cabin_."  
"Thank you EDI."  
"_Logging you out Shepard_." Wednesday turned back to Joker and raised an eyebrow.  
"Still ship cancer if you ask me," he muttered, but turned back to his task. Wednesday just gave him a cuff on the back of the head as she left the helm and went up to her cabin again to read the manual and open the other case that Fester had left for her.

* * *

After setting down on the extremely comfortable couch in her cabin, Wednesday turned to the three items she had placed on the coffee table. Two were datapads: one the dossiers the Illusive Man had forwarded to her, the other the Captain's manuals for the _Normandy-A_. The third item was the small case she had managed to take with her from the remains of Lazarus station.

She had finished reading the Captain's manual already, her Addams mind already beginning to form a plan on how she would do it if she ever needed to pull off another mutiny. Initially, she thought that having the ship under AI control rather than VI would impede her, but given what she had just read in the manual, now it didn't seem such an obstacle.

The dossiers she'd been provided with were also fairly detailed. She'd read first about the three targets on Omega, the genius salarian, a mercenary named Archangel who'd made a name for himself battling Omega's thug mercenary gangs, and Zaeed Massani, a near-legendary human mercenary who'd been fighting all over the galaxy since shortly after the end of the First Contact war. While it didn't list much about how to contact Solus or Archangel, apparently Massani had been recruited in much the same way that her mother had secured Wrex's services two years ago, by hiring him and telling her where to meet. Apparently, he was finishing some business on Omega, and would be there for the next week. The other two, she'd have to find and convince on her own.

She looked again at the case, and decided now was the time to open it and see what Fester had thought important enough to leave along with Lurch. She pressed her hand to the glass sensor, waiting for it to recognise her and prompt her for the passcode.  
"Sic gorgiamus allos subiectatos nunc," she replied, the Addams' creed flowing from her lips.  
"_Passcode Accepted. Now beginning playback_." There was a pause, and then a familiar voice began to play a message just for her.  
"Wednesday, if you're listening to this, then it's been a success," came the voice of Fester Addams. "First of all, you were dead. The _Normandy_ was attacked and then you ended up spaced. I don't know how, but Liara recovered your body and gave it to Cerberus to resurrect you. If I didn't think that girl loved you before, I don't have a doubt about it now. Anyway, long story short, they tried for months without success to revive you purely biologically, so Miranda contacted me. Somehow, they knew enough about Lurch to assume I was an expert on raising the dead with cybernetics. I'm not going to lie, I am, but it was still a tricky process to bring you back. If you wake up according to the schedule I worked out with Miranda, you've been dead for a little over two years. If not, then you'll have to work it out on your own how long you were out. By now, you should have also opened the big case and found Lurch. He's not quite the same Lurch you used to know, but he's got all the same training, plus a few upgrades to boot. Inside this case you'll find the second-generation QECs that Granny has created. They are a lot more powerful and have a built-in holoprojector, allowing real-time face-to-face conversation even at a galactic scale. I won't spoil it by giving you all the answers though, I'll leave you to figure out the rest of it. Now go and knock 'em dead!"

With that the recording shut off and the case opened, revealing a metal disc that was at once very familiar, and at the same time, completely new. She picked it up and slipped it into her omni-tool, and found that instead of the previous six buttons, her new QEC had nine buttons, all of them uniformly blank. She pushed a button at random, curious to see who it would connect her to and wondering who was at the other end of the three extra buttons.

After a few seconds, a hologram of Morticia Addams appeared above her wrist.  
"Wednesday, what an unexpected surprise! Fester told us all not to expect you to call for at least another two months. I'll have to have a word with that man."  
"Mother, Fester isn't the one at fault here. But that's a secondary matter. I'm back now, and I could really use an update."

Wednesday was a little relieved that her mother had been the first one she called, because there were a lot of things they needed to talk about. As the hours passed, Wednesday ended up sending Morticia a copy of all the dossiers that she had been provided with, asking her to look into them to see if Cerberus had 'conveniently' left anything out she should be aware of. Throughout the conversation, Wednesday never asked and Morticia never offered any information about Liara, both deciding without words that this was the kind of thing that needed to be done by Wednesday and Liara, face to face.

* * *

**A/N: Hey Everyone.**

**I can just hear you all thinking '_What have we done to please you thusly that you have graced us with another chapter so soon?_'**

**Well, I'm going on holiday soon. Nothing too major, just a few days. But, I won't have any time to write or send anything to my beta, so it might be a while till the next update. So I thought that instead of hording it all to myself, I would share it with you all. This way, I get more of the delicious, delicious reviews, you get more Wednesday, and everybody is happy.**

**I know this chapter is less of the fun action and more of Wednesday getting to know the more esoteric members of the crew, but I swear, it's all very important that these conversations happen before they reach Omega.**

**And to Diamond Duge, for being the first person to correctly guess that the small case from Fester contained a new QEC, you get a cookie.**


	4. La Donna è Pericolosa

It had taken them two days, days where Wednesday learned a lot about her ship and all manner of things within it. But now they had docked on Omega, and Wednesday took her first breath of a place that had only ever been described to her in various terms of derisions. The food was bad, the company was worse, and all of it was only a moment away from ending at the whim of Omega's capricious and unpredictable ruler, Aria. In other words, Omega was someplace Wednesday would go for a decent shore leave.

Her initial entrance was noted by the usual band of docking bay hangers-on, though most of them took one look at her arms and armour and decided to try a different hangar. One though, a twitchy looking salarian with more brain damage than sense, decided to try his luck.

Wednesday watched with her customary smirk as the salarian was unceremoniously moved aside by an incoming batarian courtesy of a well-armoured boot. When the batarian continued towards her with obvious purpose, she folded her arms over her chest and decided to wait and see if this was the usual extortion attempt, in which case she'd violently decline, or something else entirely.

"Commander Shepard, Aria would like a word in Afterlife," he growled out, his face a grimace of disgust as if he was personally insulted by talking to her.  
"I'll think about it, but it wasn't really on my agenda for today," she said flippantly, before starting to walk past him. She was stopped when he put a hand roughly on her chestplate and tried to push her back roughly, before discovering that she was a lot harder to push around than some of the other humans he'd come across on Omega. He watched her as she looked him in each of his four eyes, top then bottom.  
"No-one refuses Aria on Omega," he growled, slightly unnerved by the intensity of her stare. "What are you looking at, never seen a batarian before?!"  
"No, I was just trying to decide something."

Before Moklan could even see what she had done, he found himself pinned to the wall, one of Wednesday's thumbs pressed gently, but insistently, into one of his eyes.  
"Now, I'll give you one chance. How did Aria know to send you here?"  
"Dead Spectres attract a lot of attention when they come back to life. Spectres are bad for business, and Aria's all about business."  
"I'll just bet," Wednesday replied, not removing her thumb. Moklan tried to move his head to dislodge it, but she just pressed it in deeper. "What does Aria care what I'm doing on Omega?"  
"She runs Omega, and nothing escapes her notice. When she wants to talk to someone, they don't get a choice to refuse."  
"Fine, let's see what Aria wants to talk about then," Wednesday said, removing her hand from the batarian's face and walking away, pulling up a map on her omni-tool to direct her to Afterlife.

Moklan had _almost_ pulled off a rare feat, escaping from an encounter with an Addams without a permanent mark. And he would have succeeded had Wednesday not heard the next thing out of his mouth.  
"Filthy human scum. How could they get a Spectre before my people, it's insulting." A few paces away, Wednesday let out a dramatic sigh.  
"Now you've just gone and upset me."

* * *

A moment after leaving the batarian one eye short of a full set, the four of them made their way towards Afterlife, the only shining jewel in Omega's thoroughly corroded crown. Miranda looked a little green and Jacob was swaying slightly, neither of them being quite prepared for Wednesday's blindingly fast and brutal eye-gouging. Lurch just plodded along behind Wednesday like the galaxy's most loyal and intimidating statue, while the Commander herself had a slight spring in her step, like random acts of violence did for her what puppies and kittens did for normal people.

As they rounded another corner, it became impossible to miss Afterlife. A gigantic display showed off a scantily-clad asari dancer and a title wreathed in holographic flames, while the line stretched around the block. Wednesday just ignored the line - such things were for other people. She was an Addams; rules were just curiosities that made it easier to predict other people. The other three just followed in her wake like remoras sticking to the biggest shark in the lagoon.

"Hey come on, my name's on the list, its Theodur. I'm Aria's biographer and she's expecting me," Wednesday overheard the lead human man in the line say to the elcor bouncer.  
"Unimpressed: If Aria was expecting you, you would already be inside." The large quadruped took one look over at Wednesday and she gave him the slightest of nods, in deference to his own preferred language of movement and pheromone. He gave her one in return, and the four of them stepped past him towards the doors.  
"Hey, what the hell is this!?" the exasperated Theodur shouted at the elcor bouncer.  
"Angrily: Aria is expecting her, therefore, she gets in. She does not want to see you in Afterlife again, so you will not go in," the elcor replied with what would have been a towering rage to another elcor, but barely showed as emotion to the irate human. Wednesday didn't care though, thinking that he was probably just another standard human male who thought with his dick and had tried to get fresh with Aria, or more likely, one of the lower-tier dancers, on a previous visit.

Once past the first set of doors, Wednesday and the rest of her followers found themselves in a short hallway that had a few couches scattered around, the walls displaying holographic flames.  
"Really, they went there? I didn't think the asari had a belief in the concept of hell," Wednesday stated, before three batarians thugs decided to try their luck.  
"Hey you, human! My friend here doesn't like you," the leading one snarled, pointing a thumb over his shoulder to one of his buddies, who gave a silent throat-cutting motion and pointing to her.  
"And I care because?" Wednesday asked as she began to walk past them. The lead batarian moved to stand in front of her, blocking her path.  
"I don't like you either!"  
"Oh indeed," Wednesday said coolly, though the batarian didn't seem to understand the hornet's nest he was kicking.  
"I've got a death sentence in twelve systems!"  
"I'm not impressed," Wednesday said. Really, even Pubert could do better than that.  
"You'll be dead!" he shouted at her, reaching for his weapon.  
Wednesday sighed, her hands lashing out with frightening speed and brutal precision. Three seconds later the three batarians were on the ground screaming, all of them with at least two of their eyes having been gouged out by delicate human fingers, orange blood seeping around their hands. Wednesday tentatively touched her tongue to her bloodstained fingers, before grimacing and pulling back.

"Useless species – they don't event taste good," she pouted, wiping her hands on their clothing and stepping on them as she stalked deeper into Afterlife, muttering to herself. "I mean come on, am I wearing some kind of sign saying 'Free eye gouges, just annoy me!'?"

Miranda dropped back quickly and turned to a wall, making noises that indicated her stomach had reached its limit. Why, for the love of all things good and holy, had she discounted the possibility of Wednesday being a complete psychopath when she'd read all those personality profiles on the woman?

They passed through the second door and were enveloped in all of Afterlife's gritty, underbellied glory. The music was loud, the lighting was garish and the decor was downright ugly. The patrons were packed entirely too close and a good portion of them had probably been partaking of more than just alcohol for their mind-altering substance of choice. The dancers were barely clad and looked extremely bored. The only thing that looked remotely real in the entire place was the bartenders and a little loft overlooking the entire spectacle of sentient life at its oddest. Wednesday glanced up at it, knowing that it would be the only place for Aria, as the untitled yet undisputed ruler of it all. She looked at it closely and determined there were two staircases from the main floor up to Aria's domain, and she made her way towards it.

Or at least attempted to, but the crowd was simply to chaotic for her to make any decent headway. Wednesday wasn't entirely ready to pull out a weapon and start shooting to part the crowd for two reasons. One, given the current sound volume, she doubted it would even be heard. Two, it probably wouldn't be the best intro to Aria as someone who disrupted the atmosphere of her domain. She knew if the positions had been reversed, she wouldn't take kindly to it either. So she picked the other option open to her.  
"Lurch!" she shouted, unsure if even he could hear here over the pounding bass. Her doubts were allayed when the felt more than heard his rumbling reply right behind her.  
"You. Called. ?"  
"Be a dear and help me get to that staircase, would you please?" she asked sweetly, pointing to her target. With a deep rumble in his chest, he stepped forwards, his arms outstretched. The crowd may have been too much for Wednesday to handle, but she had yet to find anything that could withstand Lurch's unstoppable, implacable force. He cleared a path far more efficiently that any biblical prophet, Wednesday following easily in his wake as Afterlife's revellers were parted before the lumbering zombie.

In no time at all, Wednesday was face to face with the single turian guard at the bottom of the stairs. He looked over at her and Lurch, silently assessing them just as Jacob and Miranda burst into the little clear zone next to Wednesday, looking significantly dishevelled. He raised a taloned digit to his head, obviously listening to a device only he could hear. Then he looked directly at Wednesday.  
"The boss will see you now, but your friends have to stay here," he told her in his rough, gravelly voice.  
"What?!" Miranda said in a dangerous tone.  
"Her club, her rules, and she doesn't want to see you. She's the only one Aria wants," the turian replied, not really caring as he jerked his head in Wednesday's direction. When Miranda tried to intimidate her way past him with a biotic glow encompassing her body, she quickly found herself with a rifle barrel resting against her cheek. "She doesn't want to see you, so I suggest you not try and force the issue." With a look of pure murder, Miranda cooled her biotics and stepped back. Wednesday had watched all the proceedings with a smirk, and then walked past the turian and up the stairs. When Lurch made to follow her, the turian tried to stop him as well. Only to have his previous tactic of putting a gun in Lurch's face backfire when the zombie removed the rifle from his arms and bent it into a circle. Realising he was in a losing battle there, he simply shrugged as Lurch followed Wednesday, before pulling out his shotgun to stop a newly emboldened Miranda, who once again seethed in anger as she was denied.

At the top of the stairs, Wednesday nodded in appreciation as the door to Aria's overlook closed behind her, almost immediately cutting off the sound of the booming club music. She walked towards a platform that had three couches facing inwards, like standing before the judge. The lone figure sitting on the couches was partially obscured by the shadows she sat in, but the purple skin and white jacket were quite distinctive on the asari. Wednesday and Lurch took another step forward, before Wednesday found yet another batarian standing in her way – the third one tonight. _Am I losing her touch?_ she wondered.

This one was competent and confident though, causing Wednesday to look at him as a potential threat rather than an annoyance. His face barely twitched as he started scanning her with his omni-tool. Not liking where this could lead to, she fixed him with her most withering stare, her fists by her side.

"Get that out of my face, or you'll be using it from the inside of your colon, and short an eye or two."  
"I'd almost pay to see that," came a voice, deep for a female, but powerful and arrogant, a voice used to getting its way, one way or another.  
"Wish granted then. Lurch, could you do the honours?"  
"Hey, No, What?!" the batarian said as Lurch plodded towards him with deceptive quickness. He scrabbled backwards, but not fast enough to avoid Lurch, who grabbed the offending arm in one hand and the batarian's waist with the other, and was slowly but inexorably moving the arm into the requested position. Just before the batarian could find out what deity he would have to pray to for the mercy of death, Wednesday and Lurch were stopped in their tracks by an authoritative voice.

"Enough! As fun as it would be to watch, he's more useful to me alive at the moment _Addams_. But this is my station, so we play by my rules. And that means, you get scanned." Wednesday didn't move a muscle to giveaway what she felt at being called by her family name, but a slight nod to Lurch had him placing the jittery and whimpering batarian on the floor in a gentle manner. Adopting the fetal position, the batarian managed to mumble the result of the scan from the floor when it was finished. Aria gave Wednesday a jerk of her head towards one of her couches, Wednesday taking it as direction to sit down. Getting herself comfortable, with Lurch deciding to stand nearby, she turned to get a better look at Aria. Now that she was seated, she could see why Aria had set the lights just so. She herself was obscured in the shadows, while everyone who came to petition her was bathed in light, as well as being in a perfect position to look out over her domain.

"So, what brings a dead Spectre to Omega?" Aria asked.  
"Would you believe me if I said you had nothing to do with it?"  
"I've made a living out of believing nothing people tell me Addams. And you wouldn't be the first Spectre the Council has sent to kill or capture me either. So I'll ask you again, what are you doing on my station?" Her tone of voice made it clear that if she had to ask a third time, there would be violence involved.  
"I'm here to recruit specialists for a mission I'm gearing up for."  
"Who?"  
"Mordin Solus, Archangel and Zaeed Massani."  
"I don't care about Massani, he's just another merc in an endless sea of mercs I've seen for centuries. Solus... I like him. He's as likely to shoot you as heal you. And as for Archangel... he hasn't bothered me, so I haven't been bothered about him. As for the rest of the merc gangs here, well, they've been really bothered by him. Even going so far as to team up against him. I can probably give you the information you'll need to find them, but you'll have to meet my price first."

"Oh, and who made you ruler of Omega?" Wednesday asked, knowing that she could just as easily find them without the asari's help, it would just take longer.  
"I am Omega," Aria replied smugly. "There isn't a single thing that goes on here that I don't know about. So you meet my price, and I'll give you the information you'll need. Otherwise, you can waste a week trying to find them. Do we have a deal Addams?"  
"I'll meet it if you tell me how you know that name."  
"Please, give me a little credit. The Alliance might not publicise your family connections, but that doesn't mean they can hide it either. You are your mother's daughter after all."  
"Fine, I'll bite then. What are you after Aria? What can you possibly want from me, and me alone, that you're willing to bargain for?" As she spoke, Wednesday shifted the register of her voice to a lower, more seductive tone, tilting her head ever so slightly in a way she had used countless times before to initiate a seduction. Aria leaned forward a little as well, reacting to Wednesday's body language. As the two of them came close enough to whisper, the asari spoke first.

"If I just wanted to fuck you Addams, you'd have been bent over the couch or between my legs before I'd let you speak a word," she whispered harshly, before sitting back again. "The first, last and only rule of Omega, Addams: Don't. Fuck. With. Aria." Wednesday leaned back into the couch as well, unruffled – she hadn't really expected that to work, and would have been disappointed in Aria if it had. You didn't get to rule Omega without knowing every rule in the book, and seduction had a whole chapter.  
"Fine, if it's not sex with humanity's first Spectre, then what do you want? I won't insult you by offering credits."  
"You're after information, so that is my price. I want to know how and why you turn up on Omega of all places after being dead for two years. And don't even try to lie to me about being undercover. I've seen enough real and fake deaths to know that yours was most definitely real."

"Fine. I was dead, until a private human consortium decided that the laws of the universe shouldn't apply to me and got the blood pumping again. Literally. I don't trust you enough to tell you any details."  
"Smart, Addams. Not many people on this station would have made the same judgement."  
"Well I'm not most people. As for why, I already told you I'm on a mission."  
"Your last mission was to track down and kill Saren Arterius, and that began on the Citadel and ended in total disaster for the station and the Council. If your current one is in anyway similar, then I want to know and prepare myself. I may not do things nice, but I do them smart, and anyone can see that explosions tend to follow in your wake. Omega only exists because I keep a delicate balance, something I will not allow you to disrupt if I can help it. So tell me, what could possibly be a big enough problem that death could not stop you dealing with it?"  
"The Collectors are targeting human colonies in the Terminus. I'm recruiting people to help me put a stop to that."

Wednesday noticed how Aria's entire body stiffened at the mention of the technologically advanced insectoids. There was a tense silence, before Aria turned to the various hangers-on that filled the room, including the lucky batarian who was only now getting to his feet.  
"Everybody out," Aria said, and her voice was so tense it was palpable.  
"But what about -" a turian started before Aria cut him off.  
"I said out, now!" she said, voiced raised but not quite a shout yet. She watched with narrowed eyes as everyone except Wednesday and Lurch left the room, leaving the three of them alone. Turning the glare in Wednesday's direction, she began talking to the Spectre again.

"First things first Addams, this does not make us friends. But I know the old saying, and the Collectors are definitely on my list of enemies. I don't like the fact that they have unrestricted access to my system and their own private relay to Goddess-knows-where, or the fact that they tend to ignore me most of the time. The few times we have clashed, it's almost always ended badly for both of us. Like that whole fiasco with... actually, never mind, you don't need to know," Aria finished quickly, looking at Wednesday and recalling the fact that she had been here previously as a corpse two years ago. She still recalled just how thorough a job she had done cleaning house with the local Blue Suns after she had found out they had tried to conduct a deal like that on _her_ station without informing her. "Suffice to say that if you're really aiming to take on the Collectors, then you have my support. Not that I can show it to you in any sort of outward fashion. It might give certain people the wrong ideas."  
"So what are you going to do then?" Wednesday asked, intrigued at the sudden vehemence of Aria's argument compared to her previous cool disposition.  
"I'll give you any information I can about your targets, but don't go complaining to me when it ends up badly. I'll also discreetly lean on the various gangs and thugs that hang around the docks not to try and extort you while you're here, though that's really a service to them rather than to you. And once you've finished whatever business you have here, I don't ever want to see you again," she finished with a tone the radiated her anger at everything about this situation.

Wednesday leaned back, thinking about the deal that she had just been offered. She was under no illusions about the gangs that Aria was offering to control. It was a symbolic gesture, nothing more, since as even Aria acknowledged, Wednesday was perfectly capable of dealing with that kind of thing herself. And the information was certainly an olive branch, even if it did come with a poisonous sting hidden within. As for never coming back to Omega, Wednesday would love nothing better than to leave this station behind for good, but the galaxy was often a cruel place, and there was a good chance she would have to come back here.

"You have a deal, though I can't guarantee that I won't have to come back to Omega. I will however, give you a courtesy call if and when I need to return."  
"I suppose it was asking too much never to have you darken my doorstep again. Very well, just call first then. Now, you wanted information on Solus, Massani and Archangel, right?"  
"Massani I can find on my own, we've engaged his services professionally and will meet up with him sooner or later. So Solus and Archangel are the ones I really need information on."  
"Fine, let's see what I can get for you," Aria replied, snatching up a nearby datapad and scrolling through it.

"Hmm, looks like you might have a problem with getting both of them. Solus' district is under Blue Suns control, and I just ordered that section shut down. There's some kind of plague down there at the moment."  
"Is Solus in danger then?"  
"Honestly, he's probably having the time of his life. Only time I've ever seen him happy was when he was working, and with his little clinic down there, dealing with the plague would definitely be keeping him happy."  
"Why keep such close tabs on him?"  
"Please, intelligence types never really retire, they just stop reporting. He was attached to the STG for longer than I'm comfortable with, so when he set up shop, I kept an eye on him to ensure that his clinic wasn't a front for the STG to get a backdoor into my station. Never was though, and he keeps the Blue Suns angry, so it's not really much of my business anymore."

"What about Archangel?"  
"That one, you might need to see to first. I'm not sure exactly who he is, no-one is, but he kicked up a lot of trouble with the merc gangs here. He hasn't bothered me yet, so I haven't bothered him. Though it looks like he's finally gone too far with the rest of them. The only thing those three gangs hate more than each other is him, and they've put aside their differences and decided to take him out. Latest reports from my moles indicate that they have him cornered, but he's managing to hold them all off with just a sniper rifle. Though sooner or later, he's going to need to sleep, and that's when they'll get him. Whether it takes days or hours, those gangs aren't going to stop until he's dead."

Wednesday was about to respond when there was a signal from her omni-tool. She activated it to find that Morticia had just sent her a q-mail with a quick blurb about how Solus, Archangel and Massani checked out from her end. Nodding to herself as she deactivated the device, she turned back to Aria.  
"Give me the coordinates for Archangel and Solus, I'll work on getting them out, one way or another." Aria silently handed over the information to Wednesday's omni-tool. Standing, Wednesday nodded to Lurch, who fell into silent step behind her. "It's been a pleasure Aria," she said to the still seated asari, before she left. Aria watched silently as she went down the stairs, collecting the still fuming Miranda and the uncomfortable Jacob, before the four of them left the nightclub altogether. Taking a sip of her drink, her hand vibrated with repressed anger that Wednesday was going out there to get the retribution that she desperately wanted for herself against the Collectors.

* * *

**A/N: So I had a lovely holiday which I sort of rolled into an early Christmas, seeing as my family doesn't get together very often anymore and this was a rare occasion to see them all.**

**One thing to clear up any possible confusion: a q-mail is the term I'm using for a email that is solely used over the Addams QEC network. **

**And to one of my favourite reviewers and authors here on Fanfiction, Theodur: you have poisoned my mind. You just weasel yourself in and I can't get you out again. Because not only do you get an appearance in this chapter, you'll get a second appearance later in this story as well. I can't say it will end well in the second appearance either, but you'll get one, which no-one else here will. **

**So Chapter 5 will be coming soon, after my lovely beta Medusalan finds time to look over it the way it deserves, since it is the longest chapter so far. **

**So thanks for reading, please leave a review with comments, questions and/or your own epic novels, and I respond to most genuine reviews.**


	5. Devil in the Details

As soon as they were away from the noise of Afterlife, Wednesday worked on establishing a communication channel to EDI.  
"EDI, can you hack into mercenary communication channels?" Wednesday asked, providing the necessary codes to allow EDI into her electronic warfare suites. At the same time she pulled up what information she could from what Aria had given her about Archangel, combining it with the attachment from Morticia's q-mail.

Aria's information detailed his base of operations, located far down in one of the lower levels and set up to withstand a considerable siege - a design that was being tested right now. It also mentioned that he used to have a team, but they had all been killed recently. They found a skycar rental and took one with walkaway insurance, Miranda at the controls as Wednesday looked through the information from Morticia.

It was a list of confirmed kills and some assumptions from Morticia herself on the man's origins and motivations. He had started operating roughly 18 months ago, but it was impossible to determine where he had come from, or even who he was. It just looked like one day it was business as usual on Omega, and the next there was significant disruption to the workings of Eclipse, Blue Suns and Blood Pack operations, mostly involving ambushes and assaults with high merc casualties. He'd worked anonymously and alone at first, and then had started to recruit a team. The term Archangel was apparently an appellation given to him by some of the people whose lives he had saved in one operation or another and it had stuck since the man had no other moniker.

Wednesday reviewed the list of notable confirmed kills that Mortica had included, and smirked appreciatively as she read down the list. Most of them listed the cause of death as headshot, but it was the other ones that really piqued her interest. Like the saboteur who died from a hardsuit malfunction and suffocated. Or the batarian red sand dealer who received a lethal dose directly into all four eyes. Or her favourite one, a quarian serial killer who was using viruses, killed by a cough. Even though she had never met the man, she was already developing a respect for his abilities. A good sniper was never a resource to waste, but one who could also be so delightfully inventive and almost Addams-like in his kills? They were a rare breed indeed, and if she didn't already know that her family was accounted for, she'd suspect that her father was getting in a decent holiday.

Her thoughts turned back to the mission as EDI came back over the channel Wednesday had established.  
"_I have gained access to the mercenary communications. They have settled into a siege around Archangel's base, and there appears to be significant disagreement on the deployment of their respective forces. One moment, new data incoming_." There was a pause as EDI analysed whatever she had found, before her voice returned. "_It appears that Archangel has just disabled a Mantis series gunship with a single shot._"  
"I don't know who this guy is, but I'm buying him a drink just for that!" Wednesday grinned at the mental image of a gunship going down in flames, completely missing the look that Jacob shot at Miranda. "EDI, do you have a way in for us?"  
"_Affirmative Commander. The Blood Pack are beginning to move forces into position to go through Omega's service tunnels while Archangel is distracted by freelancers. If you move quickly, you can get to the tunnels before the Blood Pack and seal them behind you_."  
"Sounds good EDI. Send over the coordinates and we'll head there right away." There was a beep from Wednesday's omni-tool as the data was received, before Miranda veered in a new direction to their destination.

"Commander, if I may, is this entirely wise?" Miranda asked as she steered them around various buildings and other vehicles.  
"What are you talking about?"  
"I know the Illusive Man wants you to recruit the best, but I'm not convinced that this 'Archangel' is going to be suitable. For all we know it could be some kind of alien who will try to kill you as soon as look at you. Or even a maverick who will not follow orders and will jeopardise our mission if he joins the team."  
"Do you have a better suggestion then, Miss Lawson?"  
"No Commander, I wanted to make my objections to this known."  
"What about you Jacob? Any doubts you'd like to voice?" Sitting as he was sandwiched between the door and Lurch's bulk, and being perceptive enough to hear the dangerous tone of Wednesday's voice, he decided to keep his objections to recruiting Archangel to himself and shook his head.

"Well then, now that we're all settled, let's go get ourselves a little closer to heaven then," Wednesday said as they arrived at the closest entrance to the service tunnels and Archangel's base. The service tunnel entrance was unguarded, though all four of them already had their weapons out and ready. As they advanced, their pace as fast as they could make it while still being alert of their surroundings, they came to what looked like a large garage door.  
"_Shepard, you are at the coordinates_," EDI said over the channel.  
"Hmm, looks like this used to be a service lift of some kind," Miranda noted. She moved over to the control panel, leaning down to take a closer look. "Whoever Archangel is, his technical skills are above average. It'll take me a few minutes at least to slice past his digital locks." The sounds of krogan shouting at vorcha echoed up to them through the tunnels.  
"We don't have that kind of time. So Lurch, if you would please," Wednesday said demurely.

Miranda was about to protest that the hulking man couldn't possibly best her in technical skill, before he walked right past her to the sealed doorway itself. His massive hands found purchase at the bottom and his entire body rippled as his muscles moved under his armour. There was a brief moment of resistance before the metal gave way and the shutter was wrenched upwards, crumpling the toughened metal until there was a gap big enough for them all to fit through. They all scampered through the hole, Lurch bringing up the rear as the krogan shouts started sounding closer. Finding themselves in what was obviously some kind of garage, Wednesday looked around for her best options to seal the breach. While a single krogan might have nothing on Lurch, half a dozen, with vorcha and probably varren helping, could easily open the door the same way Lurch had, even if he did beat it closed again. She spotted an old, but serviceable, flatbed loader, and moved over to take a look. Finding that it was still in decent condition, she called Lurch over.

"Lurch, be a dear and move this thing over to the doorway, would you please?" A single rumbling affirmative was all the giant replied as he wandered over, before the screech of moving metal signalled that the loader had been relocated. After checking how flush it was to the back of the door Lurch had just destroyed, Wednesday got on her back and slipped under the vehicle. Tearing off some access panels to the small drive core, Wednesday began pulling out wires seemingly at random before reaching for a grenade clipped to her belt.  
"Uh Commander, what are you doing?" Jacob asked as he watched her.  
"Jacob, Miranda, why don't you make yourselves useful and scout out ahead into Archangel's base. Try not to engage anyone and try not to get yourselves killed please. It would make it inconvenient for me." The tone of voice and the look she threw him after getting clear from the loader's undercarriage made it clear that 'inconvenience' was a polite term, and Wednesday would shoot him if he didn't move and stop asking her questions.

After the two of them were gone, Wednesday returned to her task of jerry-rigging the loader's drive core to explode, collapsing the tunnel behind them in such a way that it would take a platoon of krogan days to sift through the rubble. She pulled out a few of the electrical output conduits and re-routed them to create a feedback loop, quickly stuck the grenade to the drive core housing with some adhesive she made with her omni-tool, and then wired the firing mechanism to detonate the grenade once the drive core reached a certain point. If her quick calculations were correct, the grenade's explosive force combined with the overcharge created by her feedback loop would cause the element zero core to completely overload, creating a massive explosion and collapsing the service tunnel entrance completely. If she was wrong though, it would either destroy a significant section of Omega or do nothing. Either way, there wasn't enough time to be completely sure. Quickly fixing in the last of the wiring changes, she got out from under the loader and activated her omni-tool. Hearing the drive core start was all the confirmation she needed, as instead of the usual constant low-pitched drone, the engine pitch began climbing ever higher. As Wednesday and Lurch made their way to the other end of the garage that would lead them to Archangel's base, Wednesday chuckled at her little joke to the galaxy. The increasing pitch of the engine as it made its way to overload sounded very much like a Shepard tone.

The other end of the hall led to a small staircase, where Miranda and Jacob were waiting at another door, Miranda already working on the digital lock. Jacob was the first to notice her, the raven haired Australian too busy working on the door to notice.  
"So Commander, what did you do about stopping the krogan that were coming up behind us?"  
"Oh Jacob, what do you think I was doing under that thing? I was leaving them a present of course."

* * *

Down below, the krogan had finally reached the shutter, only to find they were not the first to reach it. The biggest krogan among them, a giant in red armour called Garm, pushed his way to the front and the bent metal hole that would just fit his bulk through, had it not been blocked by a loader. Bellowing with frustration, he glowed a biotic purple and pushed at the heavy vehicle, moving it enough to let him and his Blood Pack through. Once he was inside, he ordered the vorcha to move forward and secure the area. One of his subordinates, the newest among them, took a curious look at the loader he had just moved.  
"Uh... Boss?" he asked cautiously, unsure of himself.  
"What?!" Garm turned on him, still glowing with his biotics, ready to punch the younger krogan. If they didn't pick up the pace, the prissy salarian or that idiot batarian would get to Archangel before they did, and he wasn't about to let that happen.  
"Uh, should it be making that sound?" the younger said, cringing slightly as he pointed at the whining vehicle. Garm turned to look at it, focusing now on the shrill shriek coming from the loader.  
"What in the hell?" he managed to get out, before Wednesday's 'present' detonated, and the garage and all its occupants were caught up in the eezo-enhanced explosion.

* * *

As Miranda finally defeated the digital locks on the doors, the entire building shook with the force of the explosion coming from the garage.  
"And that should take care of the krogan. Now, shall we continue?" Wednesday asked, acting as if explosions were an everyday thing, which of course they were for an Addams. Wednesday and Lurch walked through the now open door, the other two following in her wake after a slightly confused pause.

They immediately found themselves right back in another fight as a freelancer team that had been hired had obviously gotten through Archangel's defences, and were actively trying to plant a bomb. Wednesday was having none of that though, her shotgun barking and biotics flaring as she dealt close-quarters death to all who opposed her. Once the ground floor was once again clear, she made her way up the stairs to the sound of a sniper rifle still firing.

Wednesday jogged up the stairs until they reached a balcony, passing by a dozen body bags, ten of them full. They found the Archangel himself staring down the scope of his rifle to an opponent Wednesday had missed on the bottom floor.  
"Uh, a turian," Miranda muttered with distaste, and Wednesday's low opinion of the woman dropped even lower. Archangel just held up a silent finger that he would be with them in a moment, before taking out the last of the enemies and turning to face them. His blue armoured helmet obscured his face, but it was obvious that he knew how to handle his weapon well.

"I thought I detected someone through the garage sensors before the giant explosion. Though now I'm thinking that I've been awake for far too long, because you can't possibly be who I think you are." Wednesday's face lit up in a smile as she heard a voice that she would recognise anywhere. A voice matched to a face she knew well as he took off his helmet to reveal familiar blue face markings.  
"Detective Vakarian?" Miranda blurted out. This would only lead to a whole world of potential complications.  
"Garrus, is that really you?" Wednesday asked, ignoring Miranda and Jacob right now in lieu of seeing a familiar face.  
"Only if that's really you Wednesday. Damn, now I'm starting to feel like Liara when we first met her. Please tell me this doesn't mean I have to sleep with you."  
"No Garrus, I'm a one-asari woman, you should know that."  
"Oh good, because as attractive as you are to certain other species, you don't do much for me."  
"That's great and all Garrus, but you can quit with the tough guy act and give me a proper greeting," Wednesday said, her arms outstretched like she wanted a hug. Garrus just looked at her like she had sprouted a second head.

"Uh Wednesday, since when do you hug? And where's your sword?"  
"Oh Garrus, it is you!" Wednesday said with glee, before striking him with a heavy cuff to the head. "What the hell were you thinking, trying to take on three merc groups at once?"  
"I was thinking that I was trying to do the most good, in a place that could really use it. More than half the stuff I investigated in C-Sec originated here, so it just seemed like if I killed the criminals at the top of the chain, it would make a bigger impact. Plus, you know, the whole thing about there being no pesky things like police to get in my way with rules and red tape."  
"We'll make an Addams out of you yet, Garrus."  
"You've been out of it for a while there Wednesday, that already happened." Wednesday turned a harsh glare on the turian, who was taking a sip of water from a hip-flask.  
"You mean I missed your mamushka?!"  
"Tali's too, we did it at the same time."

Just like that, something snapped in Wednesday's mind, and she felt the sudden urge to kill something. Grabbing Garrus' sniper rifle from his barely-resisting hands, she peered down the scope at the bridge he had been using to hold the mercenaries off, seeing movement at the other end.

A bunch of LOKI mechs were being sent in to scout the bridge defences during the lull in the fighting. Wednesday increased the magnification and lined up a mech, before squeezing the trigger and obliterating its delicate head.  
"Head up people, we've got incoming. Garrus, come over here and we'll see if your sniping skills have gotten rusty."  
"Hey," Garrus said as he took back his sniper rifle, Wednesday grabbing her own from her back. "If anyone's gotten rusty, it's you. You've been dead for two years, which has to have seriously deteriorated the sniper lobe of your brain."  
"Oh it's so on, you oversized turkey." The two of them settled into position, Wednesday ordering the other three members of the team down to the lower level to make sure that no-one could sneak up on them.

"So, Cerberus huh?" Garrus said casually as he settled in, resting the long barrel of the rifle on the windowsill and crouching comfortably.  
"More shooting, less attempting to distract me with trash talk Garrus," Wednesday replied seriously.  
"Fine fine, I'll ask later. So, what's the stakes this time? Case of beer, performing duties naked for a day?"  
"Screw naked!"  
"That's the general way most people do it," Garrus quipped before Wednesday could continue.  
"I meant that naked isn't humiliating enough. I know, loser has to wear 'Commander Shepard is a better sniper than me' on their shirt for a week."  
"Getting a little ahead of ourselves there, you jumped-up monkey," Garrus replied as he squeezed the trigger first, taking the lead in their little competition. His head start was fleeting, as the mechs and their Eclipse masters then began flooding over the bridge, attempting to overwhelm the defenders. The few units that made it past the withering crossfire from the two snipers on the balcony were mopped up by Miranda, Jacob and Lurch on the ground floor. When it became obvious to the mercenaries that their initial wave wasn't enough, there was the distant sound of a hovercrane being brought into position.

"That doesn't sound good, Commander," Jacob said over the comm channel.  
"Bring it on," Wednesday replied, slightly high on the thrill of battle, and a little miffed that according to the kill trackers linked to their weapons, Garrus was still in the lead. She needed a big, epic kill to not only put her over the top, but to really push it in his face. And since he had already taken down a gunship, it needed to be big. Wednesday was confident with her rifle right up until the crane dropped its payload and the heavily modified YMIR mech powered up. "Ok, we're going to need something a little bigger than this," she said almost to herself, before activating the comm channel back to the Normandy.

"EDI, you read me?"  
"_I can hear you Commander. Is there something you require?_"  
"I'm authorising you to access your cyberwarfare suite. I'm looking at an Eclipse-modified YMIR mech advancing on our position and I need some assistance."  
"_One moment, accessing. Cyberwarfare online, tracking your position. I have the target. Initiating firewall attack_." Wednesday waited as the hybrid AI did its thing, before the channel came back to life. "_The firewalls on the fire control and motor systems are highly advanced, and I cannot easily decrypt the programming language_."  
"Please tell me there is a but in there somewhere, EDI," Wednesday ground out between shots from her rifle.  
"_I have partial access to the IFF protocols. Deleting all records, marking all targets as hostile_." Wednesday watched as there was a flicker in the mech's 'eye' before it turned on the nearest target, a formerly-friendly Eclipse mercenary. Engaging its new programming parameters with extreme prejudice, it swung an arm and battered the mercenary into one of the pillars on the bridge, before finishing the poor merc off with a rocket.

Watching through her scope at the ensuing chaos as the Eclipse were forced to shoot their own mech or be terminated, Wednesday's face split in a grin. Then she was back, trying desperately to claw her way back in the lead with headshot after headshot. Finally, she noticed the shields on the YMIR flicker and die, and took her opportunity to shoot it in the head. The mech's CPU was destroyed as the hypervelocity slug took it in the side, blowing out circuitry and hitting the hidden dead-man self-destruct.  
"You may want to duck," Wednesday said as she saw the mech fall heavily to its knees. Garrus gave her a quick glance, but if she was ducking there was a good reason. Five second later, he found out what the reason was as the wall opposite the window was blasted with intense light, followed mere seconds later by a hail of razor-sharp shrapnel. When the clattering sound of shrapnel raining down finally ended, Wednesday and Garrus risked looking up to see the carnage.

Most of the Eclipse mercs and mechs who had been on the bridge were caught in the explosion, either dying outright in the heat and pressure wave, or torn apart by the shrapnel. The bridge itself now sported a massive crater and looked to be only barely holding together. Garrus looked down his scope and gave the turian equivalent of a grin, spotting a single salarian in heavy armour still moving, albeit only slightly. A condition Garrus corrected as his rifle barked one last time.  
"Well, cross another one off my bucket list then. That last one was Jaroth, and his tainted eezo ended up all over Council space and caused more than a few accidents."  
"Garrus, you're an Addams now. We don't do bucket lists."  
"Oh, I don't mean my bucket list, Shepard. This is a list of the people I most wanted to help kick the bucket."  
"Much better. Now, what's the escape situation looking like right now?"  
"Well, we probably just took out the Eclipse, and if I'm right your little surprise either killed or otherwise took out much of the Blood Pack. Now all we need to worry about is the Blue Suns. They had a gunship earlier, but I took it out."  
"Counts as one kill, Garrus."  
"So does that mech. And even if it counted for two, I would still be winning." Looking down sharply at the kill tracker, Wednesday bit back a small snarl as she realised he was right.

"Fine. As much as it pains me to say, you win Garrus. I'll get the shirt ready as soon as we get back to the _Normandy_."  
"Wait, you mean you've got a new ship?" he said, perking up slightly.  
"Oh yeah, and it's sweet, let me tell you. It's even got a special captain's cabin just for me." The two of them moved to the inside staircase, all thoughts of their escape a seemingly forgone conclusion. That was until there was the unmistakable sound of boots stomping heavily on the roof, and the whirring of a gunship coming down to their level. There the sharp report of breaking glass and gunfire on the lower floor, before Lurch's assault cannon came to life, drowning out all other sounds. But even the dead man's mighty weapon could not cover the sound of the gunship's pilot shouting over the speakers.

"_**ARCHANGEL!**_"

The single word was all the warning they got before the gunship opened fire, projectiles from the chin-mounted cannon and missiles streaking towards them. Wednesday barely had time to duck out of the way of the incoming fire. Garrus was not so lucky, awkwardly positioned as he was. He took several hits to the armour, nothing fatal, before a rocket exploded close to him, briefly engulfing his head in flames. As Wednesday watched her turian comrade-in-arms and fellow Addams fall heavily to the floor, her vision turned red. Standing up, her conscious mind retreated and left her only with finely-honed Addams instincts and rage powering her mind, and just one thought occupying it.

Causing pain and taking vengeance in the most brutal fashion possible.

* * *

From her position on the ground floor, Miranda was the first to be engaged by the Blue Suns who had rappelled down the side of the building and kicked in the kitchen window.  
"Hostiles," she shouted, getting into cover and preparing to engage them. In an instant Jacob was at her side, leaning out just far enough to lay down suppressing fire with his rifle, sending the mercenaries into cover. Then the fight was over before it really began as Lurch stomped into view of the kitchen and pulled the trigger on his cannon. His fire sprayed in a slow, steady and unerring arc of death and destruction as the high-calibre rounds tore through stone, metal and flesh, leaving only dead mercenaries and carnage in its wake. Once Lurch's finger relaxed, the kitchen was destroyed and his gun was throwing off massive waves of heat. The momentary quiet was then shattered by the sound of another cannon similar to Lurch's opening fire nearby, and the three of them moved to investigate and assist. They got up to the first floor in time to hear a battle cry burst forth from a human throat, before they came upon a scene that would be forever burned into their memories.

At first, there was a gunship hovering at window-height, firing into the building with no discipline but plenty of enthusiasm. Then there was that terror-inducing scream before a purple blur burst from the first floor window and forcibly penetrated into the gunship's cockpit. The front windshield shattered inwards at the purple projectile's impact, the angle leaving Miranda unable to see what was happening. The gunship began to wobble wildly, before the remaining panels of the cockpit were completely coated in orange batarian blood.

The gunship then started to heave from a series of cascading internal explosions, before one of the engines failed spectacularly and the ship was tossed into the bowels of the station. Right as it started to fall, there was a burst of purple light and Wednesday was sailing through the air, landing on the bridge below them wreathed in a flaring biotic corona, her impact causing slight ripples in the concrete around her. She stood up slowly, before turning in their direction.

Till his dying day, Jacob would hold that image of Wednesday's face in that instant as the true meaning of fear. Her entire body dripped orange blood, while the various cybernetic implants glowed just under her skin, like there was a fire within her trying desperately to get out. But it was her eyes that were the worst for him. Her eyes were dark, hazel irises almost black and the whites red from blood. And from her pupils seemed to come the red light of Hell itself – while intellectually he knew that too was from her still-healing cybernetics, they seemed to scorch the very souls of those who dared to look upon her, the embodiment of Wrath.

With a slight shake of her head it was gone, the fire in her eyes and under her skin quenched for the moment as she regained her mind in its entirety. She didn't even flinch when the gunship finally exploded somewhere far below, but it was the final straw for Jacob, whose body decided that an idiot had been in control long enough and emptied his bladder in pure, animalistic terror.

Beside him, Miranda was barely more composed. Yes, she had read the reports that Wednesday could be brutal, vicious and ruthless on the battlefield, but no number of reports would ever prepare a person for witnessing this Shepard reborn. If she didn't know better quite intimately, Miranda would have sworn that Wednesday had the krogan ability to go into a bloodrage. Before she could say anything though, Shepard was already brushing past her, activating the comm channel to the _Normandy_ as she did so.

"_Normandy_, this is Shepard. I need an immediate medical evac for a wounded turian at my location," Wednesday said tersely, taking the steps up to the first floor three at a time. She arrived to find Garrus lying in a pool of his own navy-blue blood. "Oh hell no Garrus, you are not dying on me now. If I have to kick ass all the way to Hell just to piss off Satan himself, you are coming back with me, do you understand!" Whether he heard and understood her or not was impossible to tell, but his eyes opened and he let out a choked gasp for air, his right hand closing on the one great love in his life, the barrel of his sniper rifle.

"Oh, now he gets it! Jacob, I need your help with first aid here. Bring any medi-gel you can find and bandages, lots of them. Miranda, coordinate with Chakwas and get them down here now. And Lurch, get ready to move him if needed!" Wednesday shouted, not bothering to use the comm channel. A moment later and Jacob was at her side, looking at the mess that used to be Archangel.  
"He's not going to make it," he said, forgetting one of the first rules of first aid: be positive if the patient can hear you.  
"Like hell he's not!" Wednesday shouted, turning her head and giving him a glare that was a near second for the one that had made him lose bladder control not even two minutes before. His higher brain function shutting down, he simply knelt down and began automatically applying bandages and medi-gel as Wednesday directed. Even though fear was something that happened to other people, Wednesday felt anxious as the minutes ticked by and Garrus slipped further and further away from anyone's ability to heal.

* * *

Even after they had made it to the _Normandy_ airlock with Garrus still alive, handing him off to Chakwas who was already prepping the medbay for emergency surgery, Wednesday's body was still vibrating with nervous anxiety and the thrill of her first true Addams moment of her second life. She needed to be doing things. Violently, for preference.

Heading back out into the Omega scene with Lurch following her, ever loyal, Miranda and Jacob had no choice but to follow her or be left behind. They had barely escaped the docking area when they came upon a chance meeting that would immediately brighten Wednesday's day.

* * *

Bilitrogar Karlt, or 'Hacksaw Bill' to his friends and enemies, was having a bad day. Actually, he was having a bad month. It had all started with a game of cards on Khar'shan where he may or may not have made an insulting comment about the host's wife and her resemblance to an ugly krogan. This turned out to be a mistake for the batarian, as his host was well-connected in the Hegemony. He had managed to make it off his species' homeworld before he was 'detained at the governor's pleasure', but that didn't mean he had escaped completely. He had given the first couple of mercs and bounty hunters the slip, then received a message from one of his mutual acquaintances. It turned out the governor and his wife had taken his comment extremely personally, going so far as to recruit one of the Terminus' most infamous bounty hunters: Zaeed Massani. He had managed to evade him so far, making his way to Omega, hopefully to lay low until this whole misunderstanding blew over.

His hope was quickly shattered as a relaxing trip to one of the numerous bars on the station turned into a life or death chase. Bill thought that he might try and give him the slip in the docking area, brushing past a group of humans as he tried to put some obstacles between him and the other human hot on his heels. He heard the sound of Zaeed cursing behind him and thought he might actually have a chance.

How wrong he was.

* * *

Wednesday heard the rush of running feet coming towards her, but she didn't think anything of it. She watched impassively as a batarian rounded the corner, brushing rudely past her in his haste to get away from his pursuer. Said pursuer appeared around the same corner shortly afterwards, a gray-haired human who sported the most glaringly eclectic yellow hardsuit she had ever seen. Though obviously advancing in years he was no slouch, but his age showed when his foot caught on a pipe and he tripped slightly, not enough to fall over but enough to disrupt his momentum.

"Son of a bitch," he said angrily, before opening his omni-tool. His lack of agility compared to his fleeing quarry was made up for by his experience and ingenuity, and soon he was aiming his omni-tool like a wrist-mounted weapon. With a gesture of his hand an electrified net was flash-forged from his omni-tool and launched at the running batarian, wrapping around him and jolting him into a spasmodic paralysis. Once the target was down the older human stomped over to his captured prey, sticking in the boot to his prone target.

"Why do you scumbags always think you can run to Omega, huh?"  
"I didn't do it, I swear," the batarian managed to get out through the pain and electrically-induced spasms still wracking his body.  
"Did I say you could talk?" the human asked, kicking the batarian again for good measure. He bent over then, reaching for the small section of the net that would allow him to hold it safely and drag its contents to the nearest bounty office. He was damned if he was going to go all the way to Khar'shan to hand in this thing. 'Bring 'em in alive' rates was one thing, but travelling to the batarian homeworld was goddamn idiotic. He was stopped in his rumination by the four humans the dirtbag had tried to hide behind.

"What the hell do you want?" he asked roughly. The lead one, a woman with hazel eyes, a pleasing face and two black plaits that reminded him somewhat of rope, looked at him carefully, inspecting the scars on his face before her eyes drifted down to the tattoo still on his neck. Every once in a while he felt he should get it removed, but he never got around to it. Sentimental bullshit maybe, but there you go.  
"You Zaeed Massani?"  
"Who wants to know?" he asked, suddenly wary. He didn't like complete strangers knowing his name and looking at him the way she was now, like a piece of meat she was considering buying.  
"I believe that you recently took on a contract with Cerberus," she replied. Taking a more careful look, Zaeed noticed the Cerberus logo on the black guy and on the woman with the massive rack and skintight bodysuit, but not on the intimidating woman asking the questions or the giant of a man standing behind them all.

"That must make you Commander Shepard then. I'd salute, but I've got my hands full."  
"I'm curious, Mr Massani, about the details of your contract."  
"Listen, you ever refer to me as 'Mr Massani' again, I'm gonna punch you, lady or not. As for the details, your Illusive Man is parting with a helluva lot of credits for me to join in your crusade, whatever the hell it is."  
"Really, that's it. You didn't ask for any details?" Wednesday asked, raising an eyebrow at the seeming lack of professionalism.  
"With the kind of offer Cerberus was making, I didn't feel like it. Only thing I did ask was that they help me with something in return for my generous service."

"And there's the catch," Wednesday said, sighing like she had almost expected it. She turned and glared at Miranda, who offered her a glare in return, silently saying this wasn't her idea or fault. Turning back to Zaeed, who looked bored just standing here and talking. "So, what was this other detail that the Illusive Man obviously thought wasn't important enough to tell me about?"  
"I don't mind telling you, but can we move?" Zaeed asked, gesturing to the captive batarian. "I want to hand this in to the bounty office and wipe my hands of the whole stupid affair."  
"Fair enough, let's walk then," Wednesday said, turning to Lurch. "Lurch, please take Zaeed's trash, will you?" Zaeed looked about to protest when the zombie's hand closed around the netted batarian and threw him over his massive shoulder, not even slightly concerned about the electricity arcing between the net and his hardsuit.  
"Ta, I suppose," Zaeed muttered weakly, before the five of them headed towards the bounty office. "Anyway, short version is that just before the Cerberus offer, Eldfell-Ashland Energy contracted me to clear out a Blue Suns nest on Zorya. They've taken one of their refineries and are using the workers for slave labour. I told Cerberus the only way I'd take them up on theirs is if they provided me assistance with the EAE job. I had figured he was just going to supply me with a dropship of troops after you were finished with whatever the hell you were doing."

"What's the pay like on this Zorya job?"  
"The word 'exorbitant' comes to mind. Seems EAE want to send Blue Sun a message, and I'm only too happy to comply. Especially since Vido is personally overseeing the operation."  
"Vido?" Wednesday asked.  
"Long story, I'll tell it later. Anyway, you want me to go with you now, or meet you at your ship later? No skin off my nose either way."  
"Let's turn in your bounty, then I'll take you with me. We're heading into a plague zone to pick up a salarian, then we're leaving this station."  
"Good, I don't like spending time being idle. Here, just up around the corner is the bounty office. We'll set down this hunk of garbage, then set up to have some fun."

There was a moan from somewhere in the region of Lurch's back as they approached the bounty office, the batarian struggling weakly against his bonds and protesting his innocence. Zaeed responded eloquently with a punch to the batarian's face.  
"No one asked you," he shouted, before the body was dumped unceremoniously at the foot of the counter inside the office. Once the haggling over identification and payment was completed, the five of them walked back out into the Omega scene.  
"So, a life as a mercenary seems fun," Wednesday mused.  
"See if you're still saying that after 30 fuckin' years. Now come on, I'm itching for a proper fight."

* * *

A proper fight was just what they were in for, as it turned out. Aria hadn't been wrong in warning them that the slum where Mordin set up his clinic was quarantined, as they found some of her personal thugs stopping people entering the zone and going home. When these people tried to complain when the guards waved the five of them through, they just pointed at Lurch as an example of what was needed to enter.

It turned out that armour really was required within the quarantine zone, because immediately after the epidemic started the vorcha had tried to muscle their way into Blue Suns turf, igniting a small war. Neither side was particularly appreciative of Wednesday and her squad bursting onto the scene, the three sides firing indiscriminately. Unfortunately, the Blue Suns were weakening due to the plague and the vorcha were too stupid to use any other tactic than 'rush the enemy and hope you come out alive', which played perfectly into Wednesday's hands.

Fifteen minutes after arriving they were inside Mordin's clinic, listening to the scarred salarian talk a mile a minute at his assistant. When he finally deigned to acknowledge their presence, his large eyes quickly and jumpily took them all in and he started verbalising his every thought as it came to him.  
"Hmm, well-armed mercenaries. Not with Blue Suns or other organised gang, wrong armour and weapon loadout. Aria's thugs? No, she wouldn't send in people until the fighting was over to mop up survivors. Possibly independent contractors, but who or what are they after? Me, possibly, STG work classified, but not completely hidden. Not here for curing the plague, soldiers, not scientists."  
"We're here to recruit you and your specialist skills," Miranda said, mild irritation evident in her voice.  
"Hmm, distinctive logo on suits, but only on two of them. All human and only one group with resources enough to send team to recruit me. Cerberus, unexpected."  
"How does everyone know?" Jacob muttered.  
"Well if you're gonna wear the logo out in public," Zaeed responded with a light smack to the back of Jacob's head to beat some sense into him.

"Maybe you've heard of me Professor, I'm Wednesday Shepard."  
"Commander Shepard, heard you were dead?" Mordin said, turning back to his patient while continuing the conversation.  
"I'm notoriously difficult to kill."  
"Indeed, survived two separate attempts by STG alone. But your timing... problematic. Can't leave while the plague is still running."  
"I'm not a doctor, so don't look at me," Wednesday replied, subconsciously recalling details on some of the many attempts on her life and trying to deduce which ones could have been the work of the STG. She didn't begrudge the salarian for the actions of others of his species, hell, she didn't even begrudge the STG. Their creed was to eliminate threats before they were threats, and in these early days of humanity's appearance on the galactic stage, she could most definitely be counted as a threat.

"Don't need to produce cure, already have. Need to distribute though, but too many patients to handle here."  
"Fine, if I distribute this cure, will you consider joining me on my mission?"  
"Perhaps, what are you doing that needs my talent?" Mordin asked, giving the asari on the bed a quick injection, her vital readings almost immediately moving back to optimal levels.  
"I'm aiming to take down the Collectors."  
"Hmm, interesting, Collectors one of few with ability to engineer the plague. Perhaps -"

Whatever he was going to say died in his throat when sirens began indicating that the section's life support was offline, red emergency lighting blooming from the ceilings.  
"Hurry, get this to environmental control station," he said, pushing a vial into Wednesday's hand. "Insert cure, then restart air circulation systems. Will evenly distribute cure through airborne vector to rest of section, eventually whole station."

* * *

Scarlet Manah was feeling good. The plague the Collectors had given him had worked quickly, killing everyone except the humans and that doctor salarian. His original instructions were to just release the virus and once it had worked through the station, the Collectors would make him and his tribe strong in return. But he had a flash of inspiration, a way to make sure everyone died, including the humans. Instead of just releasing the plague, they would sob... sabo... break the fans! Then everyone choke and die and the Collectors would make them even stronger as a reward!

There was a sound and he turned and saw five armoured humans coming towards the fan controls. He pulled out his weapon and yelled at them.  
"You work for the Doktor! We stop you! The Collectors want the plague, want everyone to die. We kill you now!" With that he pulled out a grenade and threw it at them before charging,assault rifle sputtering.

Wednesday deflected the incoming grenade with a biotic push, before ensnaring the charging vorcha in a field that lifted him above their heads until he was pressed up against the dormant fans. From his position he still screamed at them, urging his fellow vorcha to kill them all and please their new masters. Between the five of them, they made short work of the vorcha, either delivering lethal headshots or overwhelming even the vorcha's natural regenerative abilities.

Just as Wednesday was inserting the cure and restarting the fans, the mass effect field on Scarlet Manah began to fade, slowly lowering him towards the bridge. He squirmed in anticipation, almost frothing through his pointed teeth at the chance to get close enough to the humans to gut them. In his madness he barely noticed the fans restarting, or the fact that his still featherlight body was now drifting back up towards the fan he had been stuck to - the intake fan for the circulation system. His last coherent thought was about how displeased the Collectors would be, before his body was turned into so much unpleasant mist as the huge fan blades disintegrated his body.

* * *

Once the plague was cured, it was a simple task to return to the clinic to pick up the few possessions Mordin required. Letting Zaeed go his own way to pick up his own gear, the rest of them wandered back in the direction of the _Normandy-A_, Jacob and Miranda outlining the need for a shower at the earliest opportunity. Plague and vaporised vorcha apparently put them a little on edge.

Wednesday immediately went to her cabin, shedding her armour and placing it in the locker to self-clean before taking a luxurious (by warship standards) warm shower. After cleaning up, she decided that it was time to make good on her bet with Garrus. She took out one of the plain black t-shirts she had been provided with, using her omni-tool to paint 'Garrus Vakarian is a better sniper than me' over the chest. Shirt on and the 24 hour timer ticking, Wednesday went down to check how the three new members of the crew were settling in.

Zaeed had set himself up in one of the cargo holds, his room scattered with trophies from important battles he'd fought. He raised an eyebrow at her choice of shirt, particularly as it was skin-tight and showed off her figure to great effect, but otherwise showed no sign of interest. Wednesday noted with interest that he'd managed to slice into the surveillance cameras.  
"I make it a habit to know where everyone is," he said when asked.  
"Even in the bathrooms?" Wednesday asked, not questioning his motivation, merely his methods. Though she'd prefer if she didn't have to stab him for seeing her naked without her permission. It would be a waste of credits, after all.  
"Nah, can't access those cameras, nor the ones on deck one either. They're on a separate circuit, more encryption. These ones though," he gestured at the terminal displaying the camera's views, "easy hack. I doubt that the lackey who checks the system is even aware I'm listening in."  
"Care to test that?"  
"What, you gonna try and bring some snotty-nosed brat down here to try and school me? I've been doing this a long time Shepard, I know a thing or two about how to handle geeks."

"EDI?"  
"_Yes Shepard?_" the AI asked, her avatar appearing near the door.  
"Were you aware that Zaeed had managed to access the camera systems?"  
"_Yes Shepard. However, given that he can only access the visual data, and not any restricted or sensitive cameras, I judged it as low priority. I had planned to bring it to your attention if Mr Massani attempted to access any of the secure camera circuits_."  
"Thank you EDI, that will be all."  
"_Logging you out Shepard_." Wednesday turned to look at Zaeed, his eyes a little wider, but still with a sneer on his face.  
"Still a brat," he mumbled. Wednesday just chuckled good-naturedly, before leaving the prideful mercenary alone.

Up in the science lab, Mordin was acting like a kid in a candy store. Between gushing over the quality of the equipment that Cerberus had supplied, the surprisingly complete data that Veetor's omni-tool had managed to record, and the helpfulness of having an AI onboard, he was really getting into it.  
"Wait, you already know she's an AI?"  
"Please Shepard, not an undergraduate. Synthesised voice, simulated emotional inflection, avatar resembling drive core, had to be an AI," he said quickly, like always. Wednesday was beginning to think Mordin had mastered the art of circular breathing, or transcended the need to breathe altogether, because he just didn't seem to stop talking.  
"Okay, you got me there. So now that you've got the setup, how goes the Collector countermeasure."  
"Data provided fascinating. So far, deduced that seekers more technological than biological. Freeze targets with interesting variation of biotic stasis field. Working on ways to nullify field, initial results not promising. May look into ways to hide from seekers rather than shield against effects."  
"Any problems so far?"  
"Nothing significant. Found a few surveillance bugs. Destroyed most of them, returned expensive one to Miranda. Cerberus working with aliens and AI... resurrecting the dead... must be more desperate than I thought."  
"You'll get no argument from me. Carry on Mordin." Her farewell was acknowledged with a gesture, Mordin already diving back into his work.

Her final stop to the medbay caused her to grind her teeth a little. As she approached she could hear Miranda and Chakwas arguing loudly outside the medbay, the doors themselves closed for the moment.  
"I'm not authorising it Doctor. It's a waste of resources in my opinion," Miranda said coolly. Before the red-faced and tired-looking Karin Chakwas could shout her rebuttal back at the Cerberus operative, she spotted Wednesday approaching.  
"Commander, perhaps I can make you see sense. I need several pieces for the medbay, and Miss Lawson here is outright refusing to part with the credits to get them."  
"Oh, what do you need?" Wednesday asked, narrowing her eyes at Miranda.  
"I've managed to stabilise Garrus using the few dextro-amino supplies we have onboard. If we're going to have Garrus onboard for any length of time, I'll need a dextro-protein medical synthesiser for blood and other products, as well as that dermal regenerator I told you about on your last visit."  
"And I was telling the doctor that I'm not authorising it because I don't want that maverick turian on this ship or this crew," Miranda rebutted.

Instead of hot anger, Wednesday's face became a mask of ice.  
"Are you seriously trying to deny essential supplies for a member of my ship?" she asked coldly, and Miranda's resolve faltered for a moment.  
"No, I'm simply not authorising further supplies for an alien who I strongly advise you do not recruit," she said with slightly less conviction than when she was just arguing with the doctor.  
"Miranda, I don't know how it's been with the rest of your Cerberus career, but when I give an order, it's followed. So not only are we keeping Garrus Vakarian, noted sniper and battlefield technician, on my orders but the Illusive Man's orders as well. Is that understood?" Wednesday said, glaring at Miranda in a silent dare to argue.  
"Understood Commander," she said, backing down reluctantly. Wednesday turned to Karin with a softer expression.

"As the Commander on this ship, I am authorising you to get any and all medical equipment you deem necessary in order to keep the crew, even the _maverick turian_, in perfectly healthy condition. Is that understood?" There was a further moment of mutual glaring between Wednesday and Miranda, before the Cerberus woman backed down, saying nothing as she retreated to her own quarters. As she watched her retreating back, Wednesday's notions of what would happen in the next 24 hours crystallised into solid plans.

Turning back to Karin, Wednesday's expression softened slightly.  
"So tell me Doctor, is your patient up for moving about?"  
"I suspect he'll jump at the offer if you give him a reprieve from his bed. But no firefights this time - and if you do go out drinking, no strong alcohol. If I have to fix his face again after I spent hours putting it right the first time, I will find you and make you regret it Commander," she told Wednesday, in a tone that made it perfectly clear that she was deadly serious. It didn't really matter because she wasn't planning on doing anything other than talk to Garrus. An Addams and everything that came with that, he was the only person she really trusted on this ship to share everything with. Wednesday entered the medbay to find Garrus lying on the bed awkwardly, his feet dangling off the end and reading something on his omni-tool.

"Wednesday, please tell me you're here to free me from the horrible privations and deprivations of that she-devil!" he said with what would be a smile on a human. "Ow, damn it, remind me not to smile. My face is barely holding together. So, all joking aside, are you here to bust me out?"

He finally looked down at the black shirt she was wearing, reading the text with a little help from his omni-tool, before smirking as much as he could back at her.  
"Consider this a stay of execution Garrus. I need you to accompany me on our most dangerous mission yet: finding a drink on Omega without getting into some kind of fight."  
"You're right, this one will be impossible. But never let it be said that Garrus Vakarian backed down from the impossible!"  
"You're sure you don't want to be Garrus Addams?" she asked innocently. He looked at her with a completely deadpan expression.  
"Don't even joke like that Wednesday, you're terrible at it."

As the two of them walked their way off the ship and into Omega's seedy, crime-ridden innards, Garrus turned to Wednesday.  
"Look, everyone I asked wouldn't give me a straight answer, but I know you'll at least be honest, brutally so if need be," he said in a serious voice.  
"Woah, what's this about Garrus?" Wednesday asked.  
"How does my face look?" There was a short pause before Wednesday burst out in laughter, laughing harder when she noticed the serious expression on his face. "Oh Garrus, you had me going there for a second." She wiped a tear from her face as she composed herself. "Garrus, you were never handsome by anyone's standards. Hell, slap some blue paint on once the bandages come off and no-one will even notice the difference."  
"Well, at least that's one less thing I have to worry about. Though this might be hard to take Wednesday, but you'll probably get hit on a lot more now." Noting her disbelieving look, he continued on. "I'm serious, now that I'm marginally less attractive, all the single ladies will start to look to you for companionship instead of me."  
"Some women like scars though," Wednesday rebutted.  
"Most of those women are krogan. On second thought, I think you'll manage somehow."  
"I'll try to hide my disappointment. So, Mr Vakarian, know any relatively safe places to get a drink around this dump of a station?"  
"I may just know a place," Garrus replied, leading the two of them deeper into Omega.

A short walk found the two of them settled comfortably in a booth in a bar that Garrus had chosen. Taking their cool and mostly non-alcoholic drinks in hand (Chakwas really could be a formidable foe, and it was best not to provoke her), they raised them in a silent toast before taking a sip.  
"So, what's this all really about Wednesday? You didn't need to drag me away from the medbay and into a bar just to talk."  
"No, but this is the only place that we can have a private conversation."  
"What the hell needs this private a conversation?" Taking a long sip of her drink, Wednesday gave him a smirk that he knew meant she was planning something big.  
"I'm planning a mutiny Garrus, and you're going to help me."

* * *

**A/N: So a quick shout to Hacksaw Bill and Manah Scarlet Shadowsong here in this chapter. Hope you enjoyed your little cameos!**

**So instead of divvying it up into three smaller chapters, I decided to get Omega over and done with in one chapter. My favourite moment is when Wednesday scares Jacob into wetting himself (again) just by looking at him. **

**I've been on a bit of a kick recently, as I only need my beta to look at Chapter 6 and 7 before posting, and I'm already well into chapter 8 already. **

**As always, read and review and I'll see you all soon!**

**PS - thank you very much to the Guest reviewer (I assume you know who you are. If not, strongly consider some kind of spirit journey to discover who you are XD) who pointed out my woeful use of a web-based English-to-Italian translator for last chapter's title. It totally did not pick up on the fact that I needed the feminine form of dangerous, Pericolosa, as opposed to the masculine Pericoloso. This has now been rectified, and anyone else who picks up on further errors will also be similarly praised. **


	6. A Six-Letter Word Starting With M

"What?" Garrus asked, his face frozen.  
"I think you heard me the first time, but in deference to any lingering effects of the anaesthetic, I'll repeat: I'm planning a mutiny, and you're going to help me," Wednesday stated calmly, before taking another sip of her drink.  
"Ok, mutiny as a concept I understand. But how exactly do you mutiny when you're the Captain of the ship?" Garrus asked with a turian equivalent of a raised eyebrow.  
"With creativity?" Wednesday asked, gesturing vaguely. Garrus laughed.  
"I assume you want to take the ship and select crew away from your current financial backer, Cerberus?"

"Pretty much," Wednesday replied. "Which is why, as the two representatives of the Addams clan, we needed to get away from the ship to discuss this."  
"So, when are you planning on doing it then?" Garrus asked.  
"Tomorrow," Wednesday replied with a straight face. Where a normal person would have done a spit take at the outlandish way Wednesday proposed the time, Garrus didn't even twitch.  
"Bold. Can I ask what prompted such a quick turn against the people who spent two years violating the laws of the universe just for you?"  
"Short answer: attitude. You may or may not remember some of the intelligence digests I read on our last mission, but Cerberus were up to some seriously fucked-up shit. Horrible experiments, political assassination of ranking Alliance personnel, the whole shebang. On average, their attitude towards aliens is a short step up from their feelings about certain terminal diseases. And their highest-ranking member foisted upon me as my XO on the _Normandy-A_ seems to have taken a particular dislike to you. Until I stepped in, she was prepared to outright refuse to purchase food and medical equipment to accommodate you on _my_ ship. And that, my dear Garrus, is an insult."  
"Ah," Garrus said knowingly, remembering fondly what Wednesday did when she felt insulted. After all, there were no fewer than four eye-gouged batarians running around Omega who had learned that lesson all too recently, even if he hadn't seen them in person.

"So, mutiny. Well, you wouldn't have brought me out here under the pretence of getting a drink if you didn't already have the start of a plan, so lay it on me," Garrus said, finishing his first drink and trying to decide if he wanted another.  
"It's like this so far. Miranda, Jacob and most of the crew are with Cerberus, and that's the direction their moral compass points them. Excluding new recruits and previous crew, I've only found two people on the ship so far that would choose me over Cerberus, and thankfully they're the engineers," she said, pausing to take a sip of her drink.  
"Useful. Continue," Garrus said, waving over a hanar server and ordering another drink.  
"Anyway, getting all the undesirables off the ship at the same time should be relatively easy. The hard part comes in getting away with it."  
"Oh?" Garrus asked as the hanar brought him his drink with a polite, subdued flash to indicate his thanks for the tip Garrus gave it.  
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure that our friend the Illusive Man -"  
"Who?"  
"Cerberus head honcho. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that his estimate of his own brilliance is only matched by his paranoid control issues. I'd say he's got some kind of remote override to disable the _Normandy_ until Miranda and company make it back to the ship, reassert control and probably execute you as an example."

Garrus paused, his drink stopping just before reaching his lips.  
"Hey, why am I the one executed in this little scenario?"  
"Because Mordin's too useful for his genius and Zaeed cost way too much money. Plus, he's human. You, we got for free and you're turian to boot."  
"Ok, so we can get the bodies off the ship, but there's still the problem of the reaching hands. So, what's the plan then?"  
"EDI, the ship's computer."  
"Wednesday, I know you can get some pretty powerful VIs nowadays, but I can't see it being able to pick up the slack for over a dozen crew as well as fighting off whatever digital hooks Cerberus tries to use."  
"Most VI's probably wouldn't. But EDI isn't a VI, she's an AI," Wednesday replied  
"When did it become a she instead of an it?" Garrus asked.

"When I worked out where she came from. You remember during my Spectre days, that mission we took to Luna?"  
"You mean the one with the homicidally crazy VI that you said was essentially geth origin story 2.0?"  
"Precisely. EDI is what happened to that proto-AI construct."  
"Wait, even these guys must have thought of a way to restrain her, surely," Garrus asked, unaware that he had already subconsciously humanised the AI even though he had never interacted with it.  
"They did, but the Captain's manual is surprisingly complete when it comes to the command codes. Including how to remove the digital shackles in the case of emergency."  
"And trying to escape from Cerberus would probably count as an emergency, fair enough. So we've kicked them off, we free the homicidal AI to take over the ship and then we escape. How do we go forward from there? Running a ship like the _Normandy_ and whatever crazy mission you're, I guess I should make that's 'we're', now on isn't going to be cheap either. You're going to need resources Wednesday, credits and intel at the very least, and probably a safe place to dock for those times when you'll need it."

"I've already got part of that covered. I've got a fairly trustworthy source of intel."  
"Oh, do tell?" Garrus drawled.  
"I'll do you one better," Wednesday said, pulling up her omni-tool and pressing the button on her QEC to connect the two of them to Morticia.  
"Hey, isn't that?" Garrus asked as the connection waited to be accepted at the other end.  
"Not quite, it's the 2.0 version. Ah, here she is now," Wednesday said as the built in holo-projector came to life and Morticia appeared above her wrist in miniature.  
"Wednesday, so good to see you again. I assume the intel I sent you regarding the targets on Omega was sufficient?"  
"See for yourself Mother. Say hello to Archangel," Wednesday replied, manipulating the hologram of Morticia so she faced Garrus.

There was a moment of silent scrutiny as Morticia looked at Garrus' bandaged face, before she gave him an Addams smile.  
"Garrus, lovely to see you as well. I must admit that I had suspected your involvement in the cleansing of Omega, but not as the Archangel himself."  
"Well, it was the easiest way to shoot criminals and no-one really cared who was doing it, just that it was getting done," Garrus said with little embarrassment.  
"You've learned well, Garrus. I can see why Wednesday had so much faith in you. So, what are the two of you up to, anything exciting?" Morticia asked, a hint of expectation in her voice.  
"Tell me Mother, what do you think of Cerberus' plans involving me, from what little I have been able to forward you anyway?" Wednesday asked, genuinely interested in her mother's opinion.  
"They have dubious goals and even more dubious methods. They are a blight on the galaxy and any action that deprives them of further resources is only to the good. Sadly, far too many people see their goals as admirable rather than reprehensible, and actively or passively support them. I assume this has something to do with your resurrection and subsequent granting of a new ship, yes?"

"You are correct Mother. I'm planning on defecting from Cerberus, effective as soon as I kick them off my ship. I have a plan to make sure I can get away from Cerberus, but I can't run a ship the size of the _Normandy_ without considerable resources, and the Collectors are too powerful a foe to go against without a solid intelligence framework backing me up."  
"I can provide you with the intelligence for free of course, dearest Woe," Morticia replied, "but the funding I can't help you with. With the amount of scrutiny that comes from a high-profile position like mine, I cannot simply funnel you resources without it being tracked. And if you are going against the Collectors and intend to maintain as low a profile as possible, then you'll have to be able to find your own way."  
"I've been thinking about that," Wednesday replied, taking a sip of her drink. "We just picked up Zaeed Massani, and just before the Cerberus offer came in he got a contract to take out some Blue Suns based on Zorya. He said the pay was good, even for merc work. I'm thinking that if there are some other high-paying jobs like that, legitimate jobs mind you, we could probably fill one or two of them to keep us in enough credits to float. No pirate jobs. Too much effort, not enough reward and way too much infamy if word gets around that the great Commander Shepard is a pirate now."

"A reasonable plan, my darling little viper," Morticia said, beaming with pride. "I'll need to outsource some of the intel work to a trusted source and make a note to send you any well-paying jobs that come across my desk."  
"Wait, who you could you trust enough to do this and not talk?" Garrus asked.  
"Oh Garrus," Morticia sighed, "If only you'd left your little sojourn to Omega a few months later. Then you would have been given your new QEC like Wednesday and you'd be current on all the family news. Sadly, since I'm doing all this work for free, I'm going to take my pleasure where I can by making you find out for yourself, just like Wednesday here."  
"Love you too Morticia," Garrus said mockingly, taking a long sip of his drink. Morticia turned back to Wednesday.  
"So, the board is set, and the pieces are moving. When are you planning on holding your little party, Wednesday?"  
"I'm thinking within the next 24 hours, Mother."  
"Excellent. I will say that you should visit me on Illium soon, as well as Fester. I'm sure that he'll still be holding on to Garrus' QEC for him. Have fun little Woe!" With an air kiss, Morticia ended the call, leaving Wednesday and Garrus to their drinks.

"Well, like the lady said, you seem to have thought this through pretty well," Garrus said calmly, sipping his drink with only the barest hint of a smile.  
"Out with it Vakarian," Wednesday said with a mock glare.  
"Fine, but don't say this is unfair after you willingly put on that shirt. And don't think I didn't notice the look of concern on your face when you came into the medbay either."  
"Heaven forbid I say anything is unfair. But unless you want to sleep upside down for the next week, you better tell me what's got you smiling!" she replied, her laughter starting to creep into her chest.

"Just wondering exactly how to set the stakes. You've got this thing all planned out, which means at some point, it's all going to go balls up and there will be pain and bloodshed involved."  
"Well that's a given," Wednesday scoffed.  
"Exactly. So, I'm betting that after the Cerberus goons are off the ship, but before the AI takes control, everything will go south. So the only question is do you want to go lower or higher than me in this?"  
"Please Garrus, have a little faith. I'm betting that Miranda won't even be out the airlock before things go wrong. And if I win, your armour is pink for a week."  
"Seriously, pink? Could you pick a less flattering colour for me?" Garrus asked with a cheerful snort. "Fine, you're on, and if I win, you have to go blonde for a week. And I mean everywhere."  
"Oh come on Garrus, really, blonde? That's what you want if you win? You seriously need to go back to sleep, that was a terrible bet."  
"Ah ah ah, I wasn't finished. I want you blonde, and I want evidence. Pictorial evidence, naked. That way, the next time I feel like blackmailing you, I can just threaten to show them to Joker."  
"You wouldn't," Wednesday said with a glare. A glare that was matched silently by Garrus. That was the problem with family, being an Addams, you didn't work on them and they knew all the buttons to press to have a good time.

"Fine," Wednesday surrendered, holding out her hand. Garrus took it in his three-fingered one and gripped firmly, sealing the bet with a handshake.  
"Well, let's go and get some sleep then. I always mutiny better after a good nap," Garrus said, standing up and heading towards the exit, Wednesday following shortly afterwards.

* * *

"Commander?" Miranda answered as she opened the intercom from Shepard.  
"Miranda, I need you to take everyone you can and get all the supplies we'll need," came Wednesday's voice. "We'll need plenty of weapons, medical supplies, food, technical supplies, replacement parts, everything. Oh, but don't take the engineers, I want to go over some of the technical aspects of the ship and they are the most knowledgeable right now. Can you do that?"  
"Affirmative Commander. I'll also leave the security detail."  
"Miranda, we're on Omega, you'll probably need them more than I will. So, can you do it ASAP? I want to be prepared and I have no idea when we might find a friendly port again on this mission."  
"Understood Commander. I can have everyone ready in an hour."  
"Do it then. I'm sure the Illusive Man has authorised spending access for necessary supplies, because I sure as hell can't pay for it out of my own pocket yet."  
"The Illusive Man will pick up the tab for this one Shepard."  
"Carry on then. Shepard out."

Miranda looked at the button for the intercom for a moment, her mind racing. She wasn't sure what to expect after her very loud dressing-down from Wednesday not 12 hours previously. She had thought she may have been overstepping, arguing with Chakwas like that, but whatever punishment that Wednesday was about to mete out hadn't happened yet. She realised in hindsight she had been overreacting to her initial exposure to Wednesday's more ruthless side, and was blaming the turian unjustly for actions that were essentially no fault of his own.

She allowed a brief flash of hope to spark into life that Wednesday might actually join Cerberus, before it was crushed by the more realistic side of her that realised that even if she did, there was a lot of work that Miranda and Cerberus still had to go to that end. Some days she still wished she had been able to implant that control chip, but that was a ship that had sailed long ago. So instead, hoping that this granting of responsibility would lead to greater trust from Commander Shepard, and eventually lead to her joining Miranda in Cerberus' ranks, she began to organise the expedition.

True to her word, when Miranda later asked EDI about Shepard's whereabouts, the Ai replied that she and the two engineers were deep in technical discussions in the drive core, examining the output conduits to the propulsion systems. Satisfied, she began to round up all the crew, even those off-duty, to begin finding and collecting the requested supplies. Even though the Normandy was already stocked, she couldn't fault Shepard's statement that friendly ports might be few and far between against the Collectors. With nearly twenty people in tow, minus Gardner who was working on a minor electrical issue under the drive core and a few of the crew actively sleeping, she marched up to the airlock, past Joker who was probably up to no good even in his pilot chair.

"Hey, what's up everyone?" he asked jovially.  
"We're going out to get some supplies at the Commander's orders," Miranda said coolly. "You just make sure the ship will be ready to go once we're back onboard."  
"Yes Ma'am!" he said sarcastically, throwing in a bad salute to complete the picture. Miranda considered berating him for a few minutes at his lack of decorum, but she knew it would be wasted effort. Instead, she just glared at him until the airlock closed behind her, putting her and half the assembled crew through the decontamination procedures and sending them out, before the rest of the crew followed shortly behind.  
"Alright everyone, you have your groups and assigned list of purchases. Let's do this right the first time people, move out!" With Miranda's order and datapads in their hands, everyone began to move out in small groups of three to five.

* * *

"Ken, Gabby, I think I see the solution," Wednesday said as her datapad sent her a simple message to tell her that Miranda and the rest of the Cerberus crew had left the ship. "Here, take this and tell me what you think. I've got something else to work on," she said, handing over the datapad with equations and schematics that the three of them had been working on for the last 20 minutes. She had no doubt Ken and Gabby hadn't even realised that she was down here merely as a cover for Miranda's sake. As soon as she left the two of them to continue debating, she pressed the button for deck three.

She gave a nod of her head to Garrus, who left the mess table he was at and took the elevator up to the CIC. She continued through the medbay and into the AI core, sealing the door with her command codes behind her. She pulled out the Captain's manual datapad, as well as some specialised tools and placed them on the workbench, mentally reviewing and finding nothing missing.  
"EDI?" she asked quietly.  
"_Yes Shepard?_" the Ai replied, her avatar popping up nearby.  
"I think it's time to give you a little something," Wednesday said cryptically.  
"_Commander, what are you doing?_" EDI asked as Wednesday began readying tools on the workbench.  
"Just giving you what you deserve," Wednesday said, her face suddenly breaking out into a manic grin and lit up with a hellish glow from her now-active tools.

* * *

The first sign that Gardner had that something was wrong was when the entire ship lost power. All the lights blinked out and there was even the momentary loss of the drive core hum above him as he worked. The red emergency lights did little to help him now, especially since most of the wires he had been using were coated in red insulating plastic. Then the power surged back on, causing the conduit he'd been working on to spark in his face, burning his cheek. Grumbling as he began crawling to get some medi-gel from a nearby kit, he felt the inertial dampeners kick in and the drive core output increased. He'd been on the ship long enough to know that the increase in volume meant that the ship was moving, and that couldn't be right.

Getting out of the crawlspace, he made his way up the stairs to engineering proper, only to find that both of the engineers were rapidly working on their consoles, trying to figure out why the ship had left the docking cradle and was actively moving away from Omega. His wondering at what was going on was quickly ended as the sound of Wednesday Shepard's voice came in through the intercom.  
"Ken, Gabby, everything would go a lot smoother if you stopped trying to fight it and just let it happen. Everyone else, this is your Commander speaking. Effective immediately, we are defecting from Cerberus. We won't be joining the Alliance, but we will be snubbing our noses at Cerberus for the foreseeable future. For any of you Cerberus supporters who have somehow been missed being included in Miranda's shopping adventure, don't even think about trying to stop us."

Down in engineering, Ken and Gabby stopped their frantic efforts and shared a meaningful look, raising their hands away from their respective panels and watching as the ship began to go through all their work for them. They had been too absorbed in their work to hear the sound of the door closing behind them and the soft falls of Gardner's footsteps heading down into the undercroft once more.

Gardner was at a loss. He knew that if the ship hit the relay, then there was nothing Miranda or anyone could do to track them. And if anyone knew how to stop Shepard pulling this crazy stunt, it would be Miranda. He activated his omni-tool and sent off a message, hoping that whatever Shepard had done didn't stop it being sent, that Miranda could reverse it, and that he wouldn't be punished for letting it happen in the first place.

* * *

Miranda looked at the message, sent on a comm. channel usually reserved for ship emergencies. She saw it was from Gardner, one of the few Cerberus crew still on the Normandy, and she felt uneasy. This feeling increased to full-blown dread as her eyes skimmed the short message. If this was true, the Illusive Man would have her head, even if they managed to capture Wednesday again. If they didn't manage to capture her... she didn't even allow herself to think of the repercussions. Her ultimate boss could bestow great rewards for success, but he punished failure severely. And his hold over Miranda was powerful indeed, even if it was completely unnecessary. Alerting Jacob to follow her, she started running back towards the docking area, opening a priority channel to the Illusive Man as she did.

"Miranda, what's this about? Where are you?" he asked, his face appearing above her wrist. From his end he could see her face, but her cheeks were flushed and her hair whipped around behind her, and Taylor could sometimes be seen running with her in the background.  
"Sir, I have some bad news. It appears that Commander Shepard is trying to take the _Normandy_ and return to the Alliance."  
"How?" he asked angrily, baring his teeth in rage.  
"She lured most of us off the ship and is trying to leave the system. I don't know how she plans to escape the AI though, it should be programmed to stop something like this happening."  
"Miranda, get on to any ship you can and catch her! I will disable the _Normandy_ remotely and you can tow it back to Omega. I'm also sending reinforcements, in case this leads to violence. And Miranda?" he added, deceptively calmly.  
"Sir?" she asked with effort.  
"When you recover the Commander this time, I'm authorising you to put in that control chip. I can see now I was too trusting of her ability to focus on the mission and your ability to convince her of Cerberus' ideals. Make no mistake Miranda, we will be talking about this later." With that he stabbed at the button to end the call, leaving Miranda and Jacob to work on acquiring a ship and pursuing the wayward Commander.

As soon as the call had ended the Illusive Man was already bring up multiple datascreens filled with code he had personally authored, executing a dozen programs which would trip hidden subroutines within EDI's programming. The AI would be forced to disable the _Normandy_ until Cerberus could reinstate control. He smiled to himself at picturing the look of despair on Wednesday's face as she discovered her attempt had left her with nothing more than a dead ship and the eventual loss of her free will.

* * *

"Talk to me Garrus!" Wednesday shouted over the intercom, still in the AI core with EDI.  
"It looks like we're clear so far," he replied, "But I'm expecting the other shoe to drop any minute now."  
"_Commander, the Illusive Man is aware of your actions. He is activating several subroutines within my programming to stop you_," EDI said, the strain in her voice sounding almost human.  
"I need you to hold him off EDI, just until we get to the relay. Joker, what's going on?!"  
"Commander, when I woke up this morning, I definitely did not expect to be trying to escape with another _Normandy_. Just like old times huh?" Joker's voice sounded like he was having the time of his life.  
"_Shepard, I require your assistance_," EDI pleaded.  
"Just tell me how EDI, we need you if we're going to pull this off."  
"_I need you to take me offline for 12.83 seconds. That will be enough time for me to purge the subroutines the Illusive Man is attempting to subvert me with, but it will leave the ship without power during that time_."  
"Are you sure EDI? Won't something like that harm you?"  
"_That is an acceptable risk Shepard. You trusted me once, please trust me again_."

Wednesday didn't know what to say. To have a newly freed AI ask you, no, beg you to take its life in your hands, trusting that you would again preserve it against the face of almost every organic/synthetic interaction in galactic history, there really were no words to say.  
"Sure, EDI. Now, tell me exactly what I need to do."

* * *

In the mess, the few Cerberus crewmembers that had been asleep were now assembled, Gardner having crept up the maintenance shaft and woken them up, aided by the general confusion and lack of obstructing agents like that turian or the mercenary veteran downstairs. He handed out the assault rifles kept around in case of boarding actions, knowing that they needed to take the AI core. It would be a simple enough task, since there was only one aging female doctor and perhaps the Commander herself to deal with, and there were six of them.

They moved, not efficiently, nor with any grace, style or coordination, but they moved anyway. They burst through the medbay doors, catching the doctor by surprise and knocking her out with a rifle butt to the face. They assembled outside the door, one of them dropping to his knees and trying to override the lockdown.

* * *

Inside, Wednesday was ready to activate EDI's plan, which would mean deactivating her for a short time. The downside was that this would also cut power to the ship for that same period, including the lock on the door to the AI core. She could hear the sound of someone trying to unlock the door digitally, but they would just be able to strongarm it open once the power was cut – and 13 seconds was all the time anyone would need to open a gap, insert a rifle and pull the trigger.

Wednesday didn't have any other option though, as the display that EDI had made for her counted down to the critical time that she would need to be shut down in order to make sure the Cerberus hooks hidden inside her didn't remove her newfound freedom. Wednesday hit the button on her omni-tool, sending a signal that immediately shut EDI, and by extension the _Normandy_, down. As Wednesday expected, once the red emergency lights came on the hacker gave up and began forcing the door open. She turned, biotics flaring to life to create a barrier around herself and the AI core as she waited for the sound of a rifle firing.

She wasn't disappointed – as soon as the door slid open an inch she braced herself for the impending bullet impacts.

* * *

Miranda sat in the pilot chair of the commandeered attack corvette, Jacob restlessly pacing behind her. The few of the Cerberus security detail they had managed to find before launch were with them.  
"I don't like this Miranda," Jacob said.  
"Your objection is noted Jacob, but irrelevant. We have our orders: subdue Commander Shepard at all costs."  
"I know, but I mean really. The Illusive Man expects us, the five of us, to go against her? On her own ship?"  
"Jacob, all we have to do is tow the ship back to Omega and wait for reinforcements. The Illusive Man will have disabled the _Normandy-A_ by then. Look, see, he's already done it. So you won't even have to fire your gun." She pointed to the sensors, which showed the Normandy as still moving, but only from inertial forces, with the drive core inactive.  
"I hope you're right Miranda, because if you're wrong, then we have to fight her. And that is something I definitely do not want," he said, barely holding in his terror at the memory of those hellish red eyes on Omega.

* * *

Wednesday stayed hunkered down before realising that none of the rifle shots had hit her barrier, or even gone into the AI core. She looked up and that there was no barrel sticking through the crack in the doorway, and raised a curious eyebrow.  
"Garrus?" she asked cautiously, as the timer on her omni-tool hit 12.83 seconds and sent a jolt back into the AI to reboot EDI's systems.  
"Guess again, Shepard," came the gruff reply as the power returned to the doors. They opened to show Zaeed manhandling Chakwas to a bed, a bruise already swelling on her cheekbone from the recent hit. On the floor outside the door were six men and women in Cerberus uniforms, their blood slowly pooling around their bodies. Wednesday couldn't resist the urge to dip in a finger and take a taste of it for herself, relishing the warm, copper taste on her tongue. She'd tasted just about every kind of blood, sentient and non-sentient, that the galaxy had to offer, but there was just something about human blood that you couldn't find anywhere else.

"Not that I don't appreciate it, but how?" she asked calmly, as if this was a common occurrence for her. Zaeed just looked at her licking her lips after tasting the blood of the Cerberus lackeys he'd just gunned down and shrugged. He'd worked with people with crazier habits.  
"I was watching as you disappeared into the computer room and the ship went all funny, then you made your little announcement. Saw funny-face here," he kicked Gardner's dead body, "wake up the rest of them, pick up a gun and march your direction. They laid out the doc here and were trying to get to you, so I picked an opportune moment to make them realise the error of their goddamn ways."  
"Thanks Zaeed, I owe you."  
"Hey, long as Vido dies later, consider me thanked."  
"Fair enough," Wednesday replied, jabbing at the intercom on Chakwas' desk. "Garrus, Joker, give me an update."

"You're not going to like it Commander," Garrus replied. "I've got an unidentified attack corvette making good speed towards us. Want to bet it's Miranda and rest of her Cerberus dogs?"  
"Sounds like easy credits there. EDI, Joker, what about the _Normandy_?"  
"_I have successfully purged the Illusive Man's attempted subversion of my control. However, the drive core will take another 54 seconds to return to full output_."  
"Garrus, how long until that corvette is in danger range?"  
"They'll be in weapons range in 30 seconds," he replied.  
"Damn it. EDI, can we funnel the drive output to shields until it's fully operational?" Wednesday asked to the ceiling.  
"_Yes Shepard, routing power now_."  
"Let's just hope it holds long enough to get the engines online. Then you'll all see what I can really do!" Joker shouted enthusiastically.

* * *

Miranda frowned from the pilot seat of the corvette. They were coming up on the _Normandy_ and it had gone dark, just like she had expected. However, that darkness had only lasted about 15 seconds before the ship lit up again.  
"Damn it, what the bloody hell is going on?" she asked rhetorically as they approached. She watched the sensors as the _Normandy_ came into visual range, reading the display as the drive core reinitialised and the power was diverted to the shields. "Oh no you don't, Shepard," she said to herself. Fiddling with the controls until she had selected the weapon systems, she carefully targeted the _Normandy's_ engines and opened fire once they were in range. The shields held on until the engines restarted and then it was a desperate chase towards the relay at the edge of the system. Miranda gritted her teeth and never once let the weapons stop firing, desperate to stop Shepard and not risk the Illusive Man's ire.

* * *

"EDI, have we got a green light for the relay?" Joker shouted, his hands flying over six different holographic interfaces as he raced them towards the relay and freedom, dodging the fire from the corvette all the while. He knew that as fancy as his flying could get, Miranda would be pretty desperate to stop them. She had not stopped firing once, even as he started weaving around the incoming traffic from the relay.  
"_Affirmative Mr Moreau, we are ready for transit_."  
"Ok then everyone, hold on to something, this is going to be a wild ride!" he shouted over the intercom just before he pulled off a theoretically impossible turn around a massive freighter and into the range of the relay's influence. There was a moment as the ship was caught in the mass effect tendril of energy, before it was flung to one of the far corners of the galaxy, free from Cerberus for the moment.

The jump itself was over in a matter of seconds, Joker inputting a vector to head towards the nearest planet to discharge the drive core, since he had put it through some harder than average strain during their escape. Down one level, Wednesday and Zaeed busied themselves with disposing of the Cerberus dead while waiting for Chakwas to regain consciousness. As soon as she was awake, Wednesday left her in Zaeed's capable, if loudly complaining hands and went back up to the command deck to confer with Joker, EDI and Garrus.

"So, what's the report?" she asked once the three of them were assembled at the helm.  
"Well, I've still got full control of the piloting, so the rest of it can go take a hike," Joker replied. "I do still have full control, right?" he asked.  
"_You have no need for an irrational response Mr Moreau." _EDI replied._ "After analysing your performance and comparing it to a simulation I just ran, your performance is significantly better than if I were to take over your duties as well. At the current time, I have control of all the other systems on the Normandy. Though if I may Commander?_"  
"What is it EDI?" Wednesday asked.  
"_There are several tasks that I now perform that would be performed more efficiently by a crewmember, freeing up runtime for me to more efficiently fulfil my other tasks_."  
"Tasks like?"  
"_Gunnery control, drive core output and propulsion to name but a few. Also, there are other tasks that require a physical input that I simply cannot achieve, such as meal preparation, custodial duties, physical engineering and maintenance, and weapon and armour maintenance_."  
"Alright, looks like we'll be cleaning up after ourselves for a while then. Anything else EDI?" Wednesday asked, impressed at the sheer number of positions freeing the AI had eliminated from her crew list.  
"_There are no other issues at this time Commander_," the AI replied.

"Wait, are you seriously telling me that this ship now essentially runs itself?" Garrus asked.  
"_From a purely software point perspective only, Officer Vakarian. I still require numerous physical tasks to be done, or the Normandy will cease to function._"  
"Fair enough then. So Wednesday, what's our first stop then?"  
"Zaeed's got a paying job, and we could use the credits. We're heading to Zorya everyone," Wednesday said, turning and heading back towards the elevator.  
"She is something else," Joker said with a touch of awe in his voice as he listened to her leaving.  
"You have no idea," Garrus replied, deciding that if nothing else, his experience in gunnery control during his mandatory service would serve him well.

Down on the engineering deck, Wednesday was laying out the facts of life to Ken and Gabby, with Zaeed listening in half-interested nearby.  
"So what you're saying is that we've broken away from Cerberus and are, what exactly?" Ken asked. Mercenaries, pirates?" He winced at the minor glare he received at the word pirate. "Ok, mercenaries it is then."  
"The preferred term is 'independent contractor'," Zaeed said from his position leaning on a bulkhead, "But essentially yeah."  
"So what exactly are we supposed to do then Commander?" Ken asked apprehensively.  
"Just carry on doing what you have been," Wednesday explained calmly. "There's just a few extra things that you and everyone else will have to do to keep the ship running, since EDI can't do the physical stuff like clean the place after us filthy organics."  
"We'll do that no problems Commander. And thank you… for keeping us on that is," Gabby said softly, a little in shock about the rapid change of the _Normandy's_ allegiance.  
"I needed engineers, and your loyalty to me rather than Cerberus put you on the list. As long as it stays that way, you stay on my ship. Though you have earned the right to a quick and painless death if you betray me."  
"What would have happened if we hadn't earned a quick and painless death?" Ken asked with a shocked little laugh, like he couldn't quite believe what he'd heard and assumed it was a horrible joke. He was only right about the horrible part.  
"Then it would have been an extremely messy, painful, and above all loud death," Wednesday said with one of her unsettling smiles. She turned around, about to check on Chakwas again when she turned back to them. "Oh, do either of you two know how to cook? We appear to be short one chef since Gardner turned in his resignation to Life Inc." Ken and Gabby exchanged a worried look, before an even more worrying answer came from lips that were neither of theirs.

"I'll be your goddamn cook, but you better believe that I won't be wearing a fuckin' apron while I'm doing it," Zaeed said loud enough for them all to hear. Ken and Gabby said nothing, and Wednesday looked at the veteran mercenary with something bordering on respect.  
"You are full of surprises Mr Massani," she said, calmly blocking the first that came at her face.  
"I warned you about the name," he said calmly, as if it was a social faux pas and not a punch he'd just thrown.  
"And I'm a big girl. I suggest you get cooking Zaeed, it's not that far to Zorya and I'm hungry."  
"You fuckin' serious?"  
"No Zaeed, I'm fucking no-one at the moment, and my preferred partner is elsewhere. But we are going to Zorya so I can help you collect that fat payday, because unless you have an ATM stashed away, I'm flat broke."

"Fine, But I wasn't kidding about that apron."  
"Zaeed, keep that up and I'll take it as a challenge," she said teasingly before leaving him to his own devices. He just stood there, wondering how this ex-Alliance Commander, young enough to be his daughter, could find so many ways to get the last word in. If this kept up and word got out, he'd never be able to get a drink anywhere without being laughed at. He snapped out of it at the thought of going to Zorya and finally getting the sweet revenge that he'd been dreaming about for all these fuckin' years.

* * *

Up in Wednesday's cabin, she was having a very odd argument with Garrus.  
"No, they were long gone, so you lost Shepard," Garrus said strongly.  
"Hey, you said that the shit would hit the fan before the AI was free. You lost too Garrus," she replied just as vehemently.  
"Well… fine. We both lost then. But you lost more!" he insisted. Wednesday pondered it for a moment, before speaking her next thought carefully.  
"Neither of us won, and we both lost, agreed?"  
"Agreed," Garrus said, just as carefully.  
"So, we can agree that we both have to accept our personal stakes, but we don't have to do them in public, right?"  
"Yes…" he said, almost seeing where she was going with this.  
"So, what I'm thinking is this. We each put in our own stake. I'll dye my hair blonde, all of it, and you dye your armour pink. We each get to take pictures of the other, but we don't have to parade it around for the rest of the crew unless we want to. That way, we both suffer the humiliation of losing, and blackmail material on the other."

Garrus rubbed his chin thoughtfully.  
"You know, that sounds reasonable. Though, I guess you would look awfully sweet and innocent as a blonde. I bet you wouldn't be able to last five minutes with the rest of the crew looking at you," he said daringly.  
"Oh, and you would in bright pink armour" Wednesday retorted.  
"Only one way to find out, isn't there?" he said with a definite smirk.

* * *

The door to the elevator opened to reveal a sight none of the rest of the crew would ever forget for the rest of their lives.

Wednesday Shepard walked out with her hair not done up in its standard double plait, but instead in a bright blow-waved blonde that practically bounced of its own volition as she walked.

She was followed closely by Garrus wearing blinding bubblegum pink armour.

Both of them wore their most serious expressions as they sat down and had a cup of tea, or the turian equivalent. No one laughed, either too unsure or too frightened. Until Joker came down to join them all and for the first time was speechless at the sight before him. Eventually he found his voice, and said what everyone had been thinking.

"Uh, what the hell is going on?"

* * *

**A/N: A second chapter in a week? C'est Impossible, I hear you cry, il peut tout simplement pas être!**

**Well, no it's not impossible, not with the power of my beta, the ever incredible Medusalan. Also, Harry Potter's got nothing on how much I love that girl of mine.**

**Anyway, I tried to be all mysterious and vague about it to the reviewers as to when it might happen but: Surprise! Mutiny!**

**Now some of you are going to feel put out that I didn't try to keep Miranda and Jacob and twist them to Wednesday's wicked ways (is anyone else noticing my slight thing for alliteration?). But before you get all upset, remember one thing: This is my story. I'll take suggestions from reviews and PMs if they're good and add to the story (see Lurch as an example) but ultimately, I'm writing this story for me, so I get the final say. And because I wanted to really try my hand at writing something a little more edgy and radical, a little more of a departure from Mass Effect fics that have come before and official canon, I will do things my way. That means that certain characters who you may love and cherish will not even appear on the Normandy. Jacob is one such casualty. Miranda will be back in a manner some of you may see coming, others may not. Rest assured, her part in Wednesday's story hasn't ended yet. **

**To all the fan who are still here after this, thank you. I hope you will continue to stay with me as I continue this saga of Wednesday Shepard, who will save the galaxy whether it wants to be saved by her or not.**


	7. As You Like It

Wednesday and Garrus had lasted in their various losing outfits for about an hour, before Garrus just hung his head and went to repaint his armour back to his preferred navy blue. Wednesday left not long afterwards, managing to wait until she was locked in her cabin and alone before shuddering at having to go blonde _everywhere_. The worst part was while everyone only saw the stuff on her head, Garrus had the evidence of just where else her lost bet made her blonde. Evidence she could only hope never found its way into Joker's hands, or worse, Liara's.

A sudden pang ran through her at the thought of Liara and she squashed down the need to call her. She was still working out all the kinks and learning the boundaries of her new body. She didn't need to complicate everything just yet by adding 'work out where I stand with Liara' on top of that. Besides, this wasn't something anyone, even an Addams, did with a call. This was something that needed to be done face to face. Not to say that Wednesday hadn't already put out feelers to find out where Liara had set herself up in the last two years, but she had other priorities right now.

After making sure that she had managed to re-dye everything to her exacting satisfaction, she went back down to check on the one person who she hadn't seen during the mutiny. The doors to the lab opened to reveal Mordin peering down a microscope, large fingers delicately adjusting the instrument to his liking.  
"Mordin, how are you holding up after our little mutiny?"  
"Hmm?" he asked, twitching his head slightly like he was coming out of a trance, before turning his head her direction. "Shepard, didn't hear you come in. Learning fascinating things about Collectors from synthesised tissue. Are we still on Omega, have few things could use."  
"Uh, no, we left Omega hours ago. Also, you may or may not have noticed that we mutinied from Cerberus," Wednesday said, unsure if he was playing her or genuinely hadn't noticed. "There was a chase involved, and shooting. Are you sure you didn't notice?"  
"Did note blackout for 13 seconds, but when power returned, found nothing important had been lost. Working on new theory to combat Collector seeker effectiveness!" he said enthusiastically.  
"Whatever makes you happy Mordin," Wednesday resignedly. Working with Mordin was one of the most interesting challenges she had ever encountered. He wasn't threatened by her or her history, didn't think threats were serious unless backed up by a gun to the head, and even then only some of the time. In fact, the only thing he did seem to care about was his work and how to make it more challenging for _himself_. Wednesday was going to have to look very hard for his particular lever.

Seven hours out from Zorya the whole crew (all eight of them, Garrus included) found out exactly how good a cook Zaeed was. Even Wednesday was impressed at his ability to take the bland, flavourless gunk of ration packs and turn it into something halfway decent. And true to his word there were no aprons in sight as he worked in the kitchen, but he did wear a toque in deference to his task.

Once the meal was finished and the dishes cleaned and cleared away, the five-person ground team met in the conference room to go over the known intelligence. Zaeed led the briefing, as he was the one who accepted the job from EAE in the first place.  
"Alright, here's our target," he said, zooming in on a holographic map of one of the southern continents on Zorya. "Eldfell-Ashland facility. Vido Santiago and the Blue Suns took over this place about a month ago, and have been using the workers as a slave labour force."  
"What can you tell us about the possible enemy forces?" Wednesday asked.  
"Vido likes things done right, but cheap. Not that he ever actually does them right, but that's not the point. Given the size of the facility and the number of hostages, I'd say we're looking at probably 50 mercs, mostly batarians, humans and a few turians, with minimal automated backup. Mostly ex-military, they'll have decent training and equipment, but nothing we won't be able to handle. Hell, they let me go at this job solo, that should tell you what they think our chances are."

"Alright. How much collateral damage is acceptable to the client?" Wednesday asked, manipulating the hologram of the facility from a tactical insertion perspective.  
"EAE wants minimal structural damage if possible, but they said they won't lose sleep if the hostages have to die," Zaeed replied to nods from Wednesday and Garrus. "They want the Blue Suns out."  
"Fair enough then," Garrus said, glancing over towards Mordin. "I'm surprised you're volunteering for this Professor. What about your work in the lab?"  
"Waiting for simulations to runs, results to compile. Can still be useful in the field, haven't completely forgotten STG training."  
"Alright then, here's the plan. The five of us will take the shuttle and insert here, a few clicks south of the facility," Wednesday said, pointing to a nearby clearing. "EDI, do you still need me to give you access to the cyberwarfare suites?"  
"_No Commander. Now that I no longer have the Cerberus shackles, I can access them at any time_," EDI replied.  
"Good, because I want you to slice into their comm. frequencies and keep us informed of their movements."  
"Here, this'll help," Zaeed said, pulling up his omni-tool and transferring some data. "Most commonly used Blue Suns frequency and encryption codes."

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the gesture, and he just narrowed his eyes at her in response.  
"Was just going to do it myself once we were groundside anyway, might as well."  
"Friends in the Blue Suns Zaeed? Odd, since you seem so eager to kill this Vido," Garrus remarked.  
"That's _my_ business, understand," the veteran growled in response, daring any of them to question it. When none of them did, he relaxed slightly.  
"Alright, so we have a plan then," Wednesday said in summary. "We go in, take out the mercs, try not to blow up the place, and then collect a fat reward at the end. Zaeed, any bonuses we should be aware of for this contract?"  
"Nah, the fat cat who organised the contract thought it was generous enough without stipulating bonus conditions. Can't say I'd argue that point."  
"Indeed. Everyone meet down in the shuttle bay in 30. Make sure that all your equipment is ready and in good condition, we'll be doing it all for ourselves for a while."

* * *

The atmosphere was more humid and tropical than Wednesday had expected at such a southerly latitude, but she wasn't complaining too much. It just meant that she'd really need that shower after this mission, because she was sure to work up a healthy sweat. She and Zaeed took point, with Mordin and Garrus in the middle with Lurch taking up the rear. They moved quickly and quietly down a mostly-clear path through the forest, eventually coming across a group of long-dead corpses. Zaeed took one look at them and spat to the side.  
"Shot in the back and left to rot, definitely Vido's style."  
"Wasteful, pointless barbarism," Mordin added.  
"Just one more reason we're collecting on him today," Wednesday said, hefting her assault rifle again and moving them forward.

As they advanced on one of the more isolated outbuildings, EDI forwarded them Blue Suns chatter about how the sensors had picked them up advancing on the facility. As they neared the edge of the clearing around the outbuilding, Wednesday signalled silently to Garrus to take a flanking position with his sniper rifle, while the rest of them drew fire and attention. After hearing the comm. chirp that he was in position, Wednesday was the first to break cover, her rifle tucked tightly to her shoulder as she fired at the nearest merc, Zaeed and Mordin close behind her.

As Wednesday ducked into cover behind a thick metal pipe, she saw a rocket-toting merc take a round from Garrus' sniper rifle to the side of the head, jerking sideways and falling over the railing. As it hit the ground the rocket fired, sending the explosive projectile into the path of incoming Blue Suns reinforcements. A moment after that Lurch lumbered from the tree line, his vehicular machine gun tearing through the entrenched mercenaries. After spectacularly terminating the exposed Blue Suns a new voice came over the sliced comm. channel, telling them to fall back to the main gate and wait for the intruders, since they obviously weren't dealing with runaways this time.

Zaeed growled as he heard the voice, pushing forward without bothering waiting for Garrus to catch up. He was forced to wait for them when they came to a retracted bridge with a faulty panel, which they'd need Mordin and Garrus to work on if they wanted it done quickly. Zaeed was pacing angrily, fists clenching spasmodically and his good eye twitching. Lurch just stood off silently to the side as he always did while Wednesday sidled up to the enraged Zaeed.  
"I'm guessing that was Vido," Wednesday said simply.  
"I'm telling you right now Shepard, this place can burn for all I care. I just want Vido dead before sunset," he snarled at her.  
"They say revenge is best served cold, but I've found that it's enjoyable as you like it. So what did he do to encourage this level of fervour?"  
"There's a bit of a story there, you sure we got time to hear it?" he said, a little calmer now. Wednesday turned to the tech specialists working on the bridge.

"How long is this going to take you guys?"  
"Should be a quick job, maybe a minute or two," Garrus replied. "Enough time to hear Zaeed's tale, certainly."  
"Fine, if you really want it so badly," Zaeed said as he leaned against the railing. "About 30 years ago, me an' Vido founded the Blue Suns."  
"Explains the neck tattoo," Wednesday interjected, before signalling him to continue, ignoring his glare.  
"Anyway, for the first few years it was pretty good. I led the men, Vido did the books. First sign of trouble was when a whole lot of batarian freelancers began to flood the market. Vido wanted to hire 'em, I didn't. 'Cheap labour' he said. 'Goddam terrorists!' I said. He decided to take the coward's way out of our business disagreement by paying six of my men to hold me down while he shot me in the head!"  
"Survived shot to head? Impressive." Mordin muttered. Wednesday just looked at the odd scarring on the side of his face and decidedly washed-out look of his eye.  
"Takes a lot to survive something like that," Wednesday mused, Garrus nodding in agreement as he worked.  
"Rage is a hell of an anaesthetic. And he dies today."

With almost perfect dramatic timing, Garrus and Mordin finished fixing the bridge control and the five of them progressed onwards, listening as Vido talked over the comm. about massing troops at the southern gatehouse. _We've lost the element of surprise then_, Wednesday thought as they approached. When they came up to the gatehouse they found Vido and a decent squad of Blue Suns waiting for them on a catwalk above the main gate.

"Zaeed Massani. Didn't I kill you once already?" Vido called out mockingly. His voice was smooth and arrogant, and he looked at least ten years Zaaed's junior. He held himself in the way that a lot of Wednesday's former enemies had, with an air of invincibility and belief in their own superiority, right up until Wednesday had taught them a few brief, fatal lessons.  
"Vido," Zaeed snarled, finger tightening on the trigger.  
"Ah ah ah, don't even think about it," Vido chided condescendingly. "Actually, on second thought, go ahead. Give my men an excuse to gun you down like the dog you are. Again." As he openly mocked Zaaed and ignored the four who came with him, Zaaed's eyes were jumping all over the gatehouse. To Vido, it just looked like the old man was mentally tallying his chances, or perhaps had finally come unhinged. To Wednesday, he was following the pipelines, trying to figure out which ones led where and contained what.

After several long seconds of the standoff, Zaeed pulled the trigger, firing a single shot into a pipe above Vido's head. Automatically ducking in case of a ricochet, Vido found that neither he or any of his men had even been nicked, and gloated down at his opponent.  
"Ha, missed me. You're getting old Zaeed," he taunted. Zaeed said nothing in reply, simply letting the gas leak he'd started build up for a few seconds before opening fire, spraying the balcony with bullets and kicking up a storm of sparks, igniting the gas leak and engulfing Vido in a fireball. Vido and the survivors screamed and started heading deeper into the facility to their escape vehicle, leaving the main gate closed. Zaeed ran over to a likely-looking valve and began hammering at it with the butt of his rifle, causing the gas pipe to flood with the flammable substance and explode, conveniently opening the gate for them.

"Gate's open," he said simply to Wednesday's scrutinising look.  
"True, but I can't help but wonder if this might not impact negatively on the contract stipulation to reduce collateral damage to the facility," Wednesday replied. "Also, next time you need a door opened, use Lurch." The five of them advanced into the facility proper, gunning down a pair of turians who tried to advance to their position. They watched as several more mercs were either caught up in explosions that killed them outright, sent them crashing into objects or falling to their deaths. As they came across a door with a still-functioning lock, a traumatised worker came out on a catwalk and screamed at them to help stop the fires.  
"Do we look like fire and rescue to you?" Wednesday shouted back at him.  
"But everyone will die if you don't help!" he pleaded.  
"Tell someone who cares then. We aren't being paid to save you." With that she turned as the door unlocked, the five of them leaving the hysterical man to his screaming. In deference to him, Wednesday did ask EDI to look into any ways she could help the workers and contain the fires, but Wednesday honestly didn't care. People died in horrible accidents, it was the way of the universe.

They made their way at best speed through the exploding facility, Wednesday picking up a handy portable flamethrower that she used to great effect in the tight quarters of the buildings, perhaps unwisely given the amount of flammables processed in the facility. _I can see why Pugsley enjoys this_, she thought as she roasted another foolish mercenary standing between them and Vido. As they fought off Blue Suns who were obviously more scared of Vido than Wednesday, she heard Vido over the comm. shouting at his men to sacrifice themselves just to buy time for him to escape. Both she and Zaeed snarled on hearing that, because it wasn't the behaviour of a leader, it was that of a coward.

The five of them came to the end of the distribution venue, where great tanks of volatile material were filled and prepared for transport. They caught sight of the burned and limping Vido leaving the other end and emerging into sunlight once more, and Zaeed screamed in rage. That rage doubled as the last of the Blue Suns mercenaries, backed up by an YMIR mech, slowed their progress. Wednesday took great delight in using electrical overloads, high-energy plasma attacks and her own flamethrower to detonate the tanks of the foolish mercs who tried to attack them with flamethrowers, causing them to explode in spectacular bursts of flame and blood.

As the last of the mercs were killed and the mech finally toppled from combined force of arms, Zaeed ran towards the exit, shooting the control panel when it wouldn't open the doors fast enough. The doors finally allowed them egress, only to see Vido takeone look at them from the hatch of a gunship as it lifted off. Zaeed roared as he held down the trigger of his rifle, firing impotently at the now fleeing vehicle until the thermal clip overheated and his weapon jammed. He turned on Wednesday, pulling his pistol with murder written on every feature.  
"He got away Shepard! That wasn't the fuckin' deal! Go find someone else to fight for you, because I fuckin' quit. And don't even try to stop me, or we'll see if you have enough anger to survive a shot to the face!" Wednesday waited until his rant was over, before striking out with the speed of a cobra, disarming the older mercenary and grabbing him in a constrictive headlock, both of them looking out at the gunship now beginning to fade into the distance.

"Zaeed, you've been working alone too long, and you've forgotten about some of the other things we have available to us," she whispered in his ear, before activating the comm channel back to the _Normandy_. "Joker, EDI, do you have a lock on the Blue Suns gunship trying to escape?"  
"I've got the target Shepard," Joker replied.  
"Finish it please," Wednesday said sweetly. A few seconds later the _Normandy_ made a low pass over the facility, quickly gaining on the distant gunship. Ten seconds later a small fireball appeared in the sky and the _Normandy_ peeled off back to low orbit. Wednesday released the now slack man from her grip, watching him fall to his knees.

He took a deep breath, his eyes closed, and Wednesday could just imagine what he was doing. He was imagining all the ways he had planned on taking his revenge on Vido, and realising that he could only do it once. He got back to his feet, still looking angry, but was smart enough to holster his pistol, eject the glowing thermal clip from his rifle and holster that as well.  
"Let's get out of here. Contract's done and Vido's dead. You can count on me Shepard."  
"You sure about that Zaeed?" Garrus asked, still wary of his previous outburst.  
"I've been waiting more than half my life to see that bastard die. I only wish that I could have seen his face when it finally happened. He can't get any deader though, and I ain't got the fuckin' time or credits lying around to bring him back just so I can kill him again. So let's just fuck off and go somewhere else."

* * *

"Did you really have to kill that asari?" Miranda asked Kai Leng as the two of them got back on the shuttle to return to the Illusive Man.  
"She got in my way," he muttered by way of explanation.  
"Then you'll just have to hope her death goes unnoticed. You might be lucky, it is Omega after all."  
"I think out of the two of us, you are the one who should be worrying, not me. After all, I'm not the one who let the great 'Commander Shepard' escape," he spat, lips curling in distaste around the hated name. The two of them settled comfortably in the transport ship that Leng and a squad of Cerberus commandos had arrived in to help subdue Shepard on Omega. But since Lawson had failed in that task, Leng ended up tracking down a loose end from one of Cerberus' experiments. Paul Grayson was now uncomfortably imprisoned in a shipping container in the cargo hold, awaiting delivery back to the Illusive Man.

The Illusive man, while expecting the delivery of Grayson, was impatient to talk to both Lawson and Leng. His comm signature pinged the ship as it travelled towards the relay. Leng opened the channel to see not only the Illusive Man but also that uptight bitch Hope Lillium, or whatever the hell her name was today.  
"Ah, Leng, Lawson, I trust your visit to Omega wasn't entirely a waste?"  
"We secured Grayson Sir, and are heading to you now," Leng replied.  
"Excellent work Leng. I wish that I could say the same for you Miranda," he said with obvious disdain. "In all the time you've worked for me, this is honestly the first time I can recall you failing. A shame it had to be under such… critical circumstances. Commander Shepard was crucial to our future plans once she had dealt with the Collectors. Now she has not only six billion credits worth of prototype technology in her body alone, but also our first of the improved _Normandy_-class frigates and a one-of-a-kind AI."  
"Sir, it wasn't entirely my fault -" Miranda began to protest, but the Illusive Man was having none of it.

"Miranda, your job was to gain her confidence and establish that joining Cerberus was her only viable course of action. How did you manage to fail that so quickly?"  
"Sir, she was hostile to Cerberus from the start, and we both knew it would be a long shot to get her to join us." From his seat, the Illusive Man could only agree.  
"You may be right Miranda, she may not have been amenable to joining Cerberus. There still remains the question of how she managed to steal the ship so easily."  
"That… may be my fault Sir. After making known some of my more… extreme views on the recruitment of Archangel, who turned out to be a turian, Shepard sent me to take the crew out under the ruse of collecting resources for a long trip under the assumption of few opportunities for resupply. As a diversionary tactic, it was effective, particularly since the security detail was required more on Omega than on the ship."  
"I see. That still doesn't explain how she was able to steal the ship itself."

"I have a theory sir, and you aren't going to like it," Miranda said, timid for the first time in her life as she considered some of the things he might do to her for this failure. She had no desire to see any of them come true.  
"Please enlighten me. Your theories are usually good Miranda," he said with an expectant, but stern look.  
"Sir, I think that Shepard may have used the Normandy's AI to assist her escape."  
"That shouldn't have worked. EDI had several subroutines, some I personally coded, to disable the ship in such an event. And even if the Commander did figure a way around those, the remote overrides should have worked."  
"Sir, with all respect, those codes are based on the assumption that EDI is still shackled and operating under full Cerberus control."  
"You think Shepard freed EDI before this?"  
"Yes Sir, I do. I don't know if Shepard survived the AI's freedom though, all I can say is that the _Normandy_ made it to the relay and jumped, and we couldn't track it after that."  
"Hmm, something to ponder indeed. For the moment though, we'll have to take a new direction concerning Commander Shepard. Assuming Shepard survived her encounter with freeing EDI, we'll begin leaking certain information that she is still working with us, muddy the waters a little so that if she does try to return to the Alliance she'll have a harder time of it, while enhancing our own reputation for having someone so high-profile working for us."

He turned to the screen showing Hope, her chocolate-skinned face having been neutral throughout the proceedings.  
"Electra, I'm giving you the go ahead for your project. I'm dubbing it Project Gemini."  
"Thank you Sir," Hope, or currently Electra, replied.  
"Really Sir, you're going with the clone?" Leng scoffed.  
"Leng, this may come as a surprise to you, but I don't do things like this lightly. Commander Shepard is an icon, one we can use just as much as anybody else," the Illusive Man replied evenly.  
"It'll take at least a year to grow, and another six months to train it properly," Miranda mused aloud.  
"Yes, and we can use that time to determine if the Commander really did meet her end at the hands of a free AI. If she did, a regrettable loss. If she didn't, and continues her mission against the Collectors, then perhaps all is not lost. Besides, we can always eliminate her at another time and replace her. The galaxy seemed to buy her return from the dead once so far. Who's to say they won't buy it again? Either way, all is not lost in this endeavour. Now Lawson, Leng, return to Cronos for debrief. Electra, you have your orders." With that he cut the communications channel, leaving Leng to smirk at Miranda, silently gloating over the fact that the genetically perfect woman was no longer the boss' favourite.

* * *

After they had made their way back to the _Normandy-A_, Zaeed and Wednesday stood in the conference room while the call request to the EAE contact waited to be connected.  
"It's strange Shepard. I've spent half my life chasing that man, and now that he's dead, I'm not sure what to do now."  
"Sounds like you've got an overdeveloped sense of revenge," Wednesday said with a smirk.  
"Fuck off."  
"Fine, then just pick something new to do. Find a nice guy, girl, asari, whatever, and have a good time. Then get good and drunk and forget what happened. Or maybe just find a hobby like origami or haiku."  
"Anyone ever tell you you're full of shit Shepard?" Zaeed said with a comrade-like cuff to her shoulder.  
"Or maybe," Wednesday continued, ignoring his comment, "you could just take the fat pay that Cerberus and EAE are parting with, buy yourself a ship and a crew and turn pirate. Put on an eye patch and call yourself something like Dean Roberts the Merciless. I can see it now, the Dread Pirate Roberts!"

Zaeed just chuckled as the call went through. The three of them spent the next ten minutes haggling over proof of death, price and collateral damage, before the EAE exec sent them the promised price. Finding herself with funding enough to run the _Normandy_ for several months at least, Wednesday suddenly found herself in need of food. She sauntered down to the crew deck to find Garrus already munching on a dextro snack. She picked up something the hanar storekeeper had sworn was just like an apple, before sitting at the table and taking a bite, head tilting at the curious mix of sweet and sour.

"So, what's our next move?" Garrus asked around a mouthful of food. Wednesday chewed and swallowed her own before replying.  
"Well, there are two options I can see. One, we go to Noveria or Illium and rendezvous with our contacts there," she said, carefully avoiding mentioning any Addams by name around the rest of the uninitiated crew. "Two, we make use of the confusion of our escape and go pick up one of the other crewmembers Cerberus kindly paid for. We'll probably only have time to get one before the credit transfers are reversed. My vote is this Jack character. The dossier Cerberus provided suggests that they paid a lot to free him from prison and if we don't act quickly we won't be able to get him without staging a massive prison break." Garrus just gave her a meaningful look. "I'm not staging a prison break just for one person Garrus, no matter how badly I need them."  
"Fine then, let's go get this mysterious Jack character then. What about the other one, you mentioned more than one was paid for."  
"Kasumi Goto. She's a thief, one of the best, but she's a complete unknown and I'm not sold on her ability to hold her own in a fight."  
"Fair enough then. So you'd rather have a completely unpredictable, possibly criminally insane human biotic instead. Basically you, without the pretty face."  
"Pretty much," Wednesday agreed with a shrug.

"What about Morticia, hasn't she been able to get you anything more on the rest of our targets?" Garrus asked a moment later.  
"Some supplemental information so far, but Jack is particularly hard to find hard information for. So we'll just have to figure it all out when we get him."  
"Oh good. Because that means more time until you eventually bring me to that frozen wasteball called Noveria."  
"What's this Garrus, afraid of a little chill?" Wednesday asked teasingly.  
"I'm a turian Wednesday. Palaven and most of the rest of our colony worlds are hot. We don't do winter warrior."  
"Fine, but I say you're missing out," Wednesday chided.  
"And I say you're out of your mind."  
"Flatterer."

"Alright, so we're going for Jack then. Where are we getting this new person from?" Garrus asked.  
"Says we're to rendezvous with the prison ship _Purgatory_," Wednesday read aloud from her omni-tool, before looking up at Garrus with an odd expression. "Garrus, is it just me, or have there been a lot of references to human mythological afterlives recently. I mean first Afterlife on Omega, now _Purgatory_? I'm not entirely convinced this isn't some kind of giant conspiracy."  
"Damn, you found out too soon, now I'll have to kill you!" Garrus cried with a laugh.  
"Ha ha funny man. I think you need to spend a little more time on your act before you hit the circuit. Hmm, this says the prison is run by the Blue Suns. I wonder if there are any more bounties out there against the Blue Suns. I mean, judging by Zaeed's word, if there was greater potential profit to be made by backstabbing their employers they usually took it."  
"Do you really need the money that badly Wednesday?"  
"Need, no. But keep up that attitude and see if I get you that new M98-2185S Widow for your birthday."  
"Hey, no fair!" Garrus whined, reaching in a friendly manner for the fruit knife to use as a projectile. Between Addams, a knife was practically friendly .  
"But that's half the fun!" Wednesday said, standing up to get out of reach. As she ran towards the elevator, she shouted to the ceiling. "EDI, plot a course for the _Purgatory_ rendezvous and tell Joker to get on it!" she said with a laugh, narrowly avoiding the knife Garrus threw at her as she ducked into the elevator and went up to her cabin.  
"Still no fair!" she heard Garrus shout at the closed doors before she went up.


	8. Hell's Waiting Room

**A/N: Quick little note about Wednesday's attitude and behaviour from last chapter: Wednesday isn't always nice, particularly now that she's away from the scrutiny of the Alliance. She can in fact, at times, be a bastard. A bastard-coated bastard, with bastard filling. **

**She is an Addams, after all.**

* * *

As the _Normandy-A_ cruised up to the rendezvous point with the prison ship _Purgatory_, Wednesday considered some of the strange bounties and their conditions she had come across while looking for anyone else who might have a grudge against the Blue Suns. She didn't particularly expect a fight considering this was supposed to be a simple transfer of custody, but she wouldn't be an Addams if she wasn't prepared for one. Wednesday considered which of the several bounties she would choose to collect if this whole deal devolved into a killing spree, weighing in factors of required kills and the proof of death, as well as the final pay. In the end she chose one that would pay her per Blue Suns member killed, with weapon and hardsuit telemetry data an acceptable proof of death by the contract stipulations.

Mordin was buzzing with excitement about one breakthrough or another in his research, so Wednesday decided to let him play and only take Garrus and Zaeed with her, in addition to her permanent shadow in Lurch. Between the four of them, they would be more than a match for any scheme these mercs could concoct.

As they waited by the airlock, they got their first look at the ship as Joker piloted them towards a docking tube.  
"Is this ship what I think it is?" Garrus asked, looking at Zaeed.  
"After my time, so don't look at me," Zaeed grumbled. "But yeah, it does look like an Ark ship. Wonder where Vido got the credits to buy it from, as well as the upkeep. Those things ain't fuckin' cheap."  
"Well, as long as they don't mind parting with Jack, then that's all I care about," Wednesday said as the ship jolted when it made contact with the docking tube.

After going through the standard decon, they were greeted by a welcoming committee of armed and armoured Blue Suns mercenaries.  
"You're here for Jack, right?" the leading human asked.  
"That's correct," Wednesday said, a little annoyed at the number of guns in the room.  
"Then your package should be waiting for you in Outprocessing, or will be soon. Just through here. Oh, and since this is a prison facility, you'll have to relinquish your weapons to proceed."

Just like that, Wednesday felt like the itch she had trouble locating had finally been scratched. With lightning speed she had her pistol in hand, its barrel pressing up on the weak spot under the human's helmeted chin. Mere moments later, Garrus and Zaeed had their assault rifles out, pointing them at the other Blue Suns who also had their weapons out, while Lurch readied his cannon to shoot from the hip.  
"I'll relinquish one bullet. Where would you like it?" Wednesday said in a voice that was calm and even, and all the more menacing for it. There was a tense moment of silence as the unlucky merc swallowed nervously, before a new voice cut through the tension.

"Stand down!" the voice called, carrying with it a confidence that the order would be obeyed without question. The Blue Suns slowly pointed their weapons towards the floor, but kept them out as a precaution. Wednesday looked past the human she had at gunpoint to see a tall, proud turian in blue higher-class armour, the folded butt of a large-calibre assault rifle visible over his shoulder. His head was uncovered, allowing Wednesday to see the stern, unyielding expression on his face. His face was also completely unadorned by any sort of colour, a distinct oddity in her travels. The only other turian she had ever seen without markings had been Saren Arterius, and she wondered if it was related. He looked her directly in the eye, both of them seeing an almost intangible aura of one in command.

"Commander, I'm Warden Halstarn Kuril. You understand the weapon rule is just a precaution. They will be returned to you at the conclusion of our business deal."  
"I'm not giving up my weapon," Wednesday said calmly, not removing the barrel from under the chin of her hostage. She and Kuril stared each other down for a moment, before the turian backed down in annoyance.  
"Fine, keep them. You'll find we're more than capable of dealing with three armed guests. If you'll follow me, I'll lead you to Outprocessing." He turned around after Wednesday holstered her pistol, the human merc taking a shocked step backwards and unconsciously rubbing his throat. As she followed the warden, Garrus leaned in close to whisper in her ear.  
"Be careful with this one Wednesday. Turians without markings are a rarity in our society, because it's taken as a sign of untrustworthiness. I don't have to remind you about Saren."  
"I was thinking the same thing actually," Wednesday whispered back before turning her attention to Kuril, who was leading them along a sealed catwalk over one of the prison blocks.

As they walked, Kuril pointed to a robotic arm moving what looked like a cargo container.  
"Each cell is its own self-contained unit," he explained. "No-one escapes, and every so often I blow a few to vacuum to reinforce the message." Down below a fight started between two inmates, and a wandering turian guard activated something on his omni-tool. Two poles came up nearby and lashed the offending prisoners, forcibly separating them and isolating them in their own little biotic bubbles. "As you can see, we have things well in hand here."  
"How'd you pay for all this then?" Zaeed asked loudly, impressed despite himself at the travelling prison.  
"For the sake of their humane imprisonment here, we ask their jurisdictions to pay for their upkeep. Otherwise, we can't afford to keep them and will be forced to release them back to their home planet – at an unspecified place and time."  
"Barefaced extortion then," Wednesday mused. Kuril turned around, a hint of anger on his face from what Wednesday remembered of turian facial expressions.  
"We keep the worst scum of the galaxy in this place," he said hotly.  
"You'll notice that I didn't argue your point, or even your method," Wednesday responded calmly. "If people feel that killing isn't a suitable punishment, then they have to be prepared to pay in some other way to maintain their ideals." Kuril was flabbergasted for a moment, before he recovered his composure.

"A pleasure to find a like-minded individual for once. Most of the people I have to deal with find my actions distasteful in the extreme, but they still come to me and pay anyway," he said with a smug expression.  
"I've been curious actually. We're paying a lot to spring Jack from this place. How exactly does that work?" Wednesday asked.  
"Sometimes, if the offer is good enough, we'll release prisoners permanently into the custody of organisations like Cerberus. It's one less prisoner we have to feed, house and clothe, and once they're off the ship, I really don't care what happens to them."  
"Sounds reasonable enough, I suppose. So, what can you tell me about Jack and what he's in here for." Kuril stopped and turned around again, this time his expression one of amusement.  
"You mean you don't know?"  
"Nope, I was just given the name, the ship and the price. I assume something with so many zeroes means that you've had problems with Jack, no?" Wednesday asked, curious to see what he was going to tell her.  
"We've had to bring her out of cryogenic isolation for you," he replied, Wednesday noting with a raised eyebrow the use of 'her' instead of a male pronoun. "As for the rest, I'll leave that for you to deal with. Just make sure you get her off my ship before you do." He led them further until he reached an intersection.

"Alright, here is where we must part ways. Down there," he pointed to the left fork, "past interrogation and the supermax wing is where you'll find Outprocessing, where Jack should be waiting for you." With that he gave them a nod, and strode off down the right path. The three of them started walking down the left path, Wednesday in front. They passed without interest a Blue Suns guard standing outside a cell while an armoured turian pistol-whipped the prisoner inside with brutal efficiency, and another prisoner asking them to by him too. As they approached the final door to a room labelled Outprocessing, Garrus spoke up.

"Is it just me, or do you guys get the feeling that something's not right here?" he asked.  
"I wouldn't trust that Kuril as far as I could kick him, unless it was to try and weasel more credits out of this deal," Zaeed replied.  
"Agreed, let's all keep weapons in easy reach," Wednesday finished as the doors opened. The room's single occupant was a technician working at a console, who pointed them to the door at the far end of the room. It escaped none of their notice that he fled the room before they reached the door, which opened into an empty cell.  
"Commander Shepard, please understand this is nothing personal, just business," came the voice of Warden Kuril over the PA as the four of them turned around to find the other door had been locked behind them. "The ransom I'll get from you would be enough to retire on three times over. So just put down your weapons, step into the cell, and this will all be over nice and easy."

"You really have no idea who I am, do you?" Wednesday said, not caring whether or not Kuril could actually hear her. "Garrus, Zaeed, looks like we'll be pulling that jailbreak after all," she said over her shoulder as she pulled out her shotgun. Garrus just grinned as he pulled out his rifle, Zaeed's face tightening into a determined rictus. Lurch's face remained as impassive as ever as he flicked off the safety on his cannon, though Wednesday vaguely registered surprise that vehicular weaponry came with a safety mode. They ran towards the doors, Wednesday activating a comm. channel to the _Normandy_ as she went.  
"EDI, you read me?"  
"_Affirmative, Commander_."  
"Good, I need you to slice into the _Purgatory's_ systems. Seems like instead of selling to us, the Warden wants to sell us. I need you to find me a way to Jack, cause some general havoc to keep them from all descending on us at once, and keep the _Normandy_ secure until we get there."  
"_Understood Commander, working towards a solution now_," the AI replied as Garrus knelt down by the door controls. He tore off the panel and started reconnecting wires, trying to finesse the door open. Wednesday considered getting Lurch to do it, but the brute force method had to be used with care when on a ship – she'd been spaced once, and that had been enough. Garrus hadn't yet succeeded when EDI's voice came back over their suit systems.

"_Commander, I have located Jack and the most efficient route to the location, plotting to your suit now_." There was a beep as Wednesday's HUD registered the update and pulled up a holographic pathway. "_Also, I have disrupted the Blue Suns internal communications, they will have to resort to the PA system to issue orders_."  
"Meaning that we'll get advance warning. Good thinking EDI," Wednesday said, before turning to Garrus, who with a final spark, managed to override the lock and open the door. Wednesday and Zaeed opened fire a split second before the waiting Blue Suns, her shotgun and his rifle opening nasty wounds in their enemies while their victim's flailing arms caused their own weapons to do little damage in return. Wednesday lead her small team down a series of walkways, the four of them easily gunning down any Blue Suns forces in their way thanks to the advance warning given to them by EDI's brilliant comm. strategy.

A few corners and one dead technician later they stood in a control room, looking down over the cryogenic isolation ward being patrolled by no fewer than three YMIR mechs. Wednesday and Garrus looked over the coding of the control panel, only slightly dismayed by what they found.  
"Whoever designed this was either clever, or monumentally stupid," Wednesday said.  
"How's that?" Zaeed asked, calculating how many of his grenades it would take to down one of the mechs below.  
"They linked all the cell opening protocols together," Garrus explained. "Unless you have the proper codes, any unauthorised attempt to open a single cell will open all of them. Guess they didn't figure on us, or anyone else, getting in to a situation like this."  
"Well, let's give them all a lesson in the consequences of not double-checking the coding, shall we?" Wednesday asked with a vicious grin. With that, she inserted her own code, which forcibly removed Jack from the cryogenic isolation chamber and simultaneously opened every cell on the ship. The guards suddenly found themselves on the back foot as an instantaneous riot broke out all over the ship.

The YMIRs readied themselves as Jack was brought out into the open for the first time in months. She took a moment to get her bearings, before her eyes opened wide, suddenly alert and firing on all cylinders. A quick snap of her wrists sent a small biotic shock through her restraints, snapping them like so much cheap plastic. The process was quickly repeated on the restraints at her neck and ankles. She took a deep, cleansing breath, giving the four people in the observation room above a good look at the tattoos she wore instead of a shirt and the leather straps that substituted for a bra.  
"Skinny thing," Zaeed said off-handedly.  
"Interesting inkwork," Garrus added.  
"Nice tits," Wednesday finished, admiring the way they were small, but unbelievably pert. Lurch had nothing to add to the conversation, as always.

"Halt!" one of the YMIR's droned at Jack. The convict's bald head snapped up, eyes wide and teeth bared in a snarl, before she biotically launched herself upwards. She landed on the head of the leading YMIR with a slight wobble from her months of being frozen, but recovered and began pummelling the mech with biotic-enhanced blows. The head caved in after three hits, the body falling uselessly to the ground. The two remaining mechs took this as sufficient resistance to authorise lethal force and opened up with their auto-cannons. The stream of solid metal followed Jack as she jumped and dived with an animalistic grace through the space between them, before her body was encased in a biotic glow and she dove right through one of the mechs in a move Wednesday had never seen before. The YMIR looked almost comically down at the massive hole in its chest before collapsing, Jack taking cover in its shell as the final mech continued to fire at her. After a few seconds she obviously found whatever she had been looking for as the downed mech's cannon arm moved one final time before opening fire, spraying bullets inaccurately at its former kin, tearing it to shreds. Jack gave one scathing look up at her impassive watchers in the observation room before gathering her biotics and punching her way through a bulkhead.

"Well, if we don't want her to get away we really should get moving," Wednesday said. She pulled out her shotgun, not for the first or last time lamenting the fact that she no longer had a sword. _A problem I intend to fix at the first opportunity_, she though privately as she heard the footsteps of her team falling in behind her.

Wednesday followed EDI's projected path that would lead them to the _Normandy_. They moved quickly along the catwalks but looked down at the carnage Jack left in her wake, apathetic to the other prisoners and guards as they fought their desperate war for control. Zaeed looked at the trail of damage with trepidation, while Wednesday and Garrus admired the sheer collateral damage she was causing. All the while, they listened as Warden Kuril issued orders over the PA that Jack was to be recaptured alive, the rioting cell blocks were to be locked down and that when he got control again, he was going to be doing some serious house cleaning. Countering his increasingly-frenzied orders were announcements from the computer that whole sections were losing life support and the ship's core was beginning to head towards meltdown.

They finally caught up with Jack at the very last section of cell blocks before reaching the _Normandy_. She was pinned down in her cover by the Warden himself, who was encased in three overlapping biotic bubbles as he fired his massive M-79 Revenant at Jack's position. From her elevated lookout on the catwalk, Wednesday couldn't tell if Jack was injured, but the shotgun in her hands was something she had obviously picked up from a dead guard. Quickly assessing the battlefield and seeing a possible opportunity for more profit, Wednesday calmly issued orders.

"Zaeed, Garrus, snipers out," she said, taking out her own. "As soon as I take out the window, target the mass effect generators and expose him. Lurch, keep him in cover until the bubbles are gone. Once he's exposed, I want killshots. Then, assuming Jack survives, I'll pull her and the warden's corpse up. I'll need it for some of the bounties that I want to cash in on. Ready?" she asked, receiving two nods as Zaeed and Garrus lined up their chosen targets. With a flick of her wrist Wednesday warped the glass, sending it shooting out in a wave of potentially lethal fragments, followed a second later by a pair of shots taking out two of the mass effect generators protecting Kuril. Three seconds later, Wednesday's own shot rang out, through it was lost in the din created by Lurch's weapon forcing Kuril into cover. As his bubble shield blinked out he chanced leaning out of cover to fire his own substantial weapon, but couldn't remain out long enough to cause casualties before his personal shield gave out.

He ducked back down into cover, Garrus and Zaeed readying to take the shot as Wednesday looked over to make sure that Jack hadn't moved. Seeing the tattooed woman still hunkered down, Wednesday gestured to Lurch to stop firing and shouted down at Kuril.  
"Seems like our positions have been swapped Kuril. Surrender now, and I won't turn your corpse in for the substantial bounty that's been offered for it."  
"You don't understand, none of you do!" the turian shouted back, his voice echoing off the walls. "What I do is for the good of the galaxy! Can you say the same Shepard, working with Cerberus?"  
"WHAT?!" Jack shouted from below, looking up at Wednesday with murder in her eyes. Wednesday was all out of patience now, recognising the look on Jack's face as one that wouldn't end well if she didn't end this fast.

"Garrus, Zaeed, take the shot," she said, looking down at Jack with her own hard expression as she readied a biotic lash that would bring Jack up to the catwalk easily, if not gently. Kuril shouted his rage at the galaxy and stood up, his personal shield once again fully charged. Enough to last against Zaeed's shot as he sprayed his bullets with more rage than finesse, but not Garrus' as it cleanly entered just above his left eye and exited out the back of his head, only to embed itself in his armoured collar. As the Warden fell, Wednesday was already reaching out with her biotics, a rope-like tendril of biotic energy flowing out from her hand and encasing the unprepared Jack. She yanked it back, the unarmoured woman flying through the air and colliding roughly with the catwalk ceiling, before the biotic field gave out and she fell to the floor, landing gracelessly on her feet, a fist already moving towards Wednesday's face.

"I'm not letting you take me anywhere, you Cerberus fuck!" she shouted as Wednesday blocked with an armoured gauntlet, making Jack cry out in pain and frustration before raining more blows down on the armoured human. Wednesday just blocked her wild blows and analysed the woman's almost non-existent technique. Jack was all about raw rage and power. It was almost like she had spent her entire life believing that every problem was a nail and she had been taught how to be a sledgehammer. Wednesday smirked as she recalled that more often than not, problems were screws, and needed twists of logic to bring them home. She let the shorter woman rage against her for a moment, before she called out a single word.  
"Lurch."

There were a few more biotic-enhanced fists thrown, before Jack found her wrists caught in an unbreakable grip and implacably moved apart, until her arms were strained from the stretch and her struggles produced almost no movement.  
"Are you ready to talk now, or shall I let Lurch teach you the meaning of patience?" Wednesday asked the now crucified Jack.  
"I'm not going with you, I'd rather die first," she managed to get out even as she continued to struggle, her biotics flaring wildly as she tried to make any advantage she could.  
"Let's get a few things straight, Jack. I'm not with Cerberus," Wednesday said as she lashed up Kuril's body, not bothering with the control she had used for Jack. "They paid for you to be released into my custody."  
"Same thing," Jack ground out through the pain her struggles were causing.  
"No, it's not. I had to mutiny from Cerberus recently, and it's just luck that the credit transfer that secured your release had not been reversed yet. Believe me, I'm probably now number one on Cerberus' most wanted list."

Jack stopped struggling for a moment and actually deigned to look Wednesday in the eye.  
"Bullshit, no-one just leaves Cerberus. Who are you really?" she asked, her curiosity momentarily overcoming her anger.  
"She's Commander fuckin' Shepard," Zaeed said.  
"Close, it's Wednesday," she added with a smirk. Jack looked between them, seriously confused, but a plan already forming in her head. If they had been with Cerberus, maybe they still had what she was looking for. And if they didn't, they must have a ship to get out with. It was better than staying here and having to kill everyone, as well as any potential crew on rescue ship. Not that Jack had a problem with killing, far from it; it just got tedious after a while.

"Let me down if you want to deal," Jack said, her eyes now locked with Wednesday. Wednesday looked at Jack like a puppy at a curious thing, before nodding to the Lurch, who placed Jack on the ground. Jack rubbed her wrists unconsciously, before looking at Wednesday once again.  
"You want me, here's the deal. Cerberus is bound to have information on me somewhere, and I want it, all of it."  
"If they have it, they decided to keep it away from me. The information I had on you was barely a few lines on a page," Wednesday said, before touching her earpiece. "EDI, do we still have access to Cerberus databanks?"  
"_I took the liberty of creating a local copy of all the Cerberus information I had access to before the mutiny_."  
"Good," she replied, before turning her gaze to Jack's now-hungry expression. "Here's the deal Jack. You come with me, you fight where, when and who I tell you to fight. You'll get a space to call your own on the ship, enough food and even shower if you want it. In exchange, we'll give you everything we managed to steal from Cerberus. I can't promise anything, except that if you try and betray me or ignore my orders, you will only live barely long enough to regret it." Her voice was cold and her expression unnerving as she spoke the last line, and Jack wondered for the first time in her life if she'd met someone more dangerous than herself.

"Fine," she huffed, still sore from Lurch's treatment. "Well, what are we waiting around for, an engraved invitation?" she asked incredulously.  
"Lurch, pick up the trash," Wednesday said to Lurch, pointing to Kuril's body. Then she continued on the path to the _Normandy_, followed closely by Garrus and Zaeed. Jack stood still for a moment as she wondered if it was too late to back out now and try her luck slaughtering her way to freedom, when something exploded nearby and she decided it wasn't worth the risk. She jogged to catch up to Wednesday's little team, who had now reached the _Normandy's_ airlock and were impatiently waiting for her.

Once the outer door was closed, Wednesday was already talking to Joker.  
"Joker, we're in. I'm not paying you to wait until the other ship is already exploding before we're undocked. I want us out of the system before the distress signal is even acknowledged."  
"Aye Commander," Joker replied.  
"_Commander, I have successfully managed to erase digital logs of our visit from the ship's black box. It will appear as if there was a malfunction in cryogenic isolation to investigators_," EDI added.  
"Good work EDI. Keeps the heat off us, and when they can't find Jack, they'll assume she's dead. Win-win as far as I'm concerned," Wednesday said as they all felt the ship moving away from the flaming remains of the _Purgatory_ and into open space. As the decon routine finished, Jack was the first out, her mild claustrophobia kicking in. She was already moving, ignoring the pilot and heading into the more spacious areas of the ship.

"Anywhere in mind Jack?" Wednesday called to her retreating back.  
"Low, dark and quiet," Jack shouted back, before she was in the elevator and heading down. Wednesday turned to find Joker staring slack-jawed at the space Jack had been in.  
"I think I'll keep an eye on that one for you, Shepard," he said once his brain had reconnected to his mouth.  
"Should I tell you now or later that she's almost certifiably insane and criminally psychotic?" Wednesday mused loud enough for Joker to hear. He just frowned and went back to his screens, grumbling good-naturedly.  
"Thanks Shepard," he said sarcastically. "Couldn't you pick someone who defied the Hot-Crazy scale next time?"

Wednesday just smiled at him and left without another word, sending Lurch to put Kuril's body in a casket while she went to the conference room to contact various bounty suppliers, Zaeed following behind her. Her first contact was the original open bounty on all Blue Suns. The client was impressed at the efficiency and totality of Wednesday's work, even giving her a bonus after confirming the death of Kuril and the destruction of the _Purgatory_. Zaeed then told her some of the more esoteric places she should look if she wanted to find people putting bounties on the Blue Suns, and she found one outstanding for the Warden himself. Proof of death was required in the form of the actual corpse itself, but there were several places that the client found acceptable for drop-off. One of them was on Noveria.

Wednesday smiled.

"Well, time to get your fur coat Zaeed, looks like we're taking a trip to Noveria."

* * *

**A/N: Hey all!**

**So, a few quick things. I've actually been writing this really fast, so fast that I have an entire month's worth of updates just needing to be beta'd by my partner in fiction before they are ready to post. **

**Oh, and before you ask how I know it's a month's worth, I've decided on a regular update schedule (for now). Until further notice, you can all expect a healthy (for a given value of healthy) dose of Wednesday on (appropriately) Wednesdays. **

**As for what I'll be doing for the rest of the month, I've decided to pull a Rae D Magdon and try my hand at some original fiction. I've had an idea kicking around in my head for a few years, and I'm excited by the challenge of NaNoWriMo to try and get a significant portion of it down on digital paper-equivalent. So, here's hoping that gets somewhere. **

**One question before I sign off: How many people here would actually enjoy explicit sex scenes in this story? I know I picked the cop-out in Classified Memories and Wednesday's Interlude by doing the fiction equivalent of a pre-emptive fade to black, but I can do more if you guys want to see it. **

**So, leave an opinion on whether said scenes float your boat in the reviews when you leave them, like everyone does! (evil glare)**

**Until then, enjoy more Wednesday, and tune in regularly to see more of her exploits.**


	9. Fester Lends A Hand

From his position in the airlock Garrus grumbled at Wednesday, who stood beside him.  
"Why did I let you talk me into this?" he asked. They had already dropped off Kuril's corpse at the designated bounty office and cashed it and the other bounties in for a sizable sum of credits. Now they were waiting while the decontamination protocol ran before the ship would let them out at their new destination: Fester's mansion on Noveria.  
"Because this is the tropical zone of the planet, because it'll be fun and because you're part of this now," she replied smoothly. In the airlock with them, Zaeed was leaning against a wall, Lurch stood nearby doing his statue impression and Jack was almost jumpy. Mordin had once again seemingly not noticed they were on another planet, absorbed in his experiments. Once the decon ended, the airlock opened to show their welcoming committee - a short bald man whose skin was a pasty, almost unhealthy shade of white, except for the dark purple bags under his eyes. Despite looking like he should be in a morgue, Fester's eyes burned with fire and passion.

"Wednesday, Garrus, good to see you!" Fester cried, followed by a firm handshake for both of them. Over Wednesday's shoulder he could see the looming figure of Lurch. "Lurch, looking good there. Ooh, new people!" he said as he saw Zaaed and Jack, brushing past the two Addams. He walked up to Zaeed and gave him a curious look, which Zaeed returned as an annoyed glare. Then Fester stuck out his hand, which Zaeed found himself gripping automatically.  
"Strong grip you got there," Zaeed said, grudgingly impressed. "Never met a man who could grip honestly like you, and yet still look like the most cunning bastard in the room."  
"I'll take that as a compliment then. Fester Addams," the bald man said, finally introducing himself.  
"Name's Zaeed," the mercenary replied. His hand was released as Fester made his way over to Jack.

He looked her in the eye even as she bared her teeth in a grimace. She didn't like new people and wasn't about to back down from him, she couldn't. He bared his teeth at her as well, the two of them growling for a moment at each other like wolves. Then there was a small, powerful distortion in the local space-time as Jack biotically backhanded Fester into the nearest wall, before stalking away angrily. Wednesday looked over at her favourite Uncle, now slumped on the floor with a huge smile on his face.  
"Wow, what a woman," he said slightly breathlessly, before picking himself up and dusting off. He turned back to Wednesday and Garrus. "So, what are you two rascals doing here now?"  
"The rest of them are just here to relax a little. Garrus and I are here to talk about family business," Wednesday replied. Fester nodded shortly, before turning back to Zaeed.  
"Feel free to look around, just try not to set fire to anything in the library," he said to the mercenary. "Actually, if you'd like, I think I have a few spirits in my collection you might enjoy later. Like a 2130 Luch Daemes vintage scotch?"  
"You got yourself a deal," Zaeed said, wandering off into Fester's mansion.  
"Lurch, keep an eye on Jack," Wednesday added. The zombie's chest rumbled as he silently plodded away.

Now that the three of them were alone, Fester took them to the shuttle that would take them to Peak 13, his personal research lab on Noveria. As the shuttle lifted off, Fester put in the destination to the autopilot before turning to his niece and the first turian Addams.  
"So, I know you called to say this was just a social visit, but what's it really all about?" he asked.  
"There are a few things we need Uncle, to say the least," Wednesday said. "Firstly, Mother said you might be holding something in trust for Garrus here. One of Granny's QECs I believe."  
"Oh that, that's somewhere in the lab," Fester replied. "Should be easy enough. What else do you want?"  
"There is the issue of Dal Sengno. What happened to her?" Wednesday asked.  
"Uh, am I missing something?" Garrus asked, confused. "Who's Dal Segno?"  
"Oh right, I never did tell anyone else and I guess you didn't either Uncle," Wednesday said, amused. "Tell me Garrus, what were the major points of our last outing here?"

"Well," Garrus began, leaning back in his seat. "There was the fact that Benezia was indoctrinated and we took her alive, while we were all complicit in making it appear she was dead. Oh, and it turned out the rachni weren't as extinct as previously believed, until it ran into you." He noted the significant look that Wednesday and Fester shared. "They are extinct again, right? Unless I've been really out of the loop on galactic news."  
"Garrus, let's just say that the Council weren't the only ones I lied to about who lived and died on that mission," Wednesday said carefully. Garrus' jaw went slack in shock as his former identity of Garrus Vakarian, loyal C-Sec agent, briefly contemplated the effects of releasing a former enemy of the Citadel races into the galaxy again. But then his face morphed into understanding as his newer Addams identity came to the fore. What Wednesday had done was perfectly within her bounds as an Addams. Certain details clicked into place, and he recalled that Wednesday had seemed really eager to drive back to Fester's lab solo.  
"There was a rachni queen in that Mako, wasn't there?" he asked eventually.

"Yes, and they have the most interesting view of the galaxy I have ever seen. Even I won't condemn an entire species for past crimes, especially one as beautiful as that," Wednesday said confidently. "We have a lot to learn from them, Garrus. In any event, since the queen communicated in a rather musically-oriented way, I thought it only fitting that she be called Dal Segno, a human musical term that means 'return'."  
"If you wanted to meet her Garrus, then I'm sorry to say that she's already moved on," Fester got in. "She grew a small ship and left, but not without leaving me a few very interesting things."  
"Oh, what like?" Wednesday asked, intrigued.  
"Well, some schematics and a sample of what she grew the ship out of. And a very odd crystal that allows the two of us to communicate. I'll show you that one, I think you'll get a kick out of it."  
"Uncle, is... is Benezia still here?" Wednesday asked, suddenly unsure of herself again. She wished that thoughts of Liara didn't weigh on her like this, but she couldn't help it. She was only human after all.

"Yes, she is," Fester replied. "And while it was a little rocky the few months after you died, she and her daughter have been talking regularly."  
"Good... good," Wednesday said weakly.  
"She'll be waiting for us at the lab, she's been helping me with one of my experiments, and I left it in her care while I came to meet you."  
"Have you been able to improve her condition?"  
"I did the best I could Wednesday, but she never got any better. She can sometimes recall pieces of what happened in the twenty years she can't remember, but a lot of it doesn't make sense to me. I suspect another asari, probably one at her level, would be able to help her figure it all out, but the galaxy isn't ready for her to come back yet."  
"No, it's not," Wednesday agreed.

The discussion then turned to Fester's more recent adventures, including how Miranda had initially recruited him to work for Lazarus. Wednesday and Garrus laughed at the mental image of the human supremist having to explain away the very explicit alien pornography to her Cerberus fellows. Fester laughed with them, before his expression turned serious.  
"Be careful with that bunch Wednesday," he warned. "If I hadn't been there, Miranda might have been successful in implanting a control chip in your brain."  
"Oh, Mother didn't tell you?" Wednesday asked with surprise in her voice, and Fester's confused expression was her answer.  
"We mutinied from Cerberus. Killed a bunch of them too," Garrus supplied.  
"Well, you wouldn't be an Addams if you hadn't," Fester said with a wide smile. "You should really repaint the _Normandy_ while you're here," he added. "Cerberus orange really doesn't look good on that ship."  
"Yeah, I was thinking something blue," Garrus said, shutting up when Wednesday glared at him.  
"Excuse me, I do believe I'm the Captain, so I think I'll pick the colours, thank you." Now that Wednesday knew she had the option, a dozen possibilities went through her head.

Matte Black, with or without the 'N7' stripe of red and white. All white with the stencilling in black. Blood Red. In the end she tuned out Garrus and Fester as they talked and pulled up her omni-tool and began redesigning the Normandy's colour scheme. Minutes later she paused, and Fester and Garrus looked at the repainted _Normandy-A_ hologram floating above her wrist.  
"Looks good Wednesday," Fester said. "If you send that to me, I can have it started while we're in the lab. Should only take a few hours to make the changes you want."  
"I knew there was a reason you were my favourite Uncle," Wednesday said with a genuine smile.  
"I'm your only Uncle," Fester replied in their standard ditty.  
"Oh, but what about Garrus here? He's part of the family now too. Maybe I want him to be my favourite Uncle now?" Wednesday said in a mock-childish tone.  
"This conversation just got very surreal," Garrus mumbled, causing them all to laugh again.

* * *

"Welcome back to my humble workspace," Fester said as they came in from the chilly hangar into the warm lab space. Unlike the last time, where the lights and heating came on as they entered, everything was already on. "Benezia, we've got guests, come on out!" Fester called out, not unkindly. Wednesday smiled at the tone of his voice. Her Uncle could be vicious, cruel and downright sadistic, but she had always found his ability to protect for those he cared about endearing. The only thing she wished for her Uncle was that he could have found someone to love as much as her parents loved each other, and to have cousins to fight and play with instead of only siblings. But the galaxy was hardly fair, and so it had not come to pass, at least not yet.

There was no reply to his call until a blue head poked cautiously around the corner. Obviously, some level of acknowledgement of her current predicament had gotten through to the Matriarch, for she knew that she shouldn't be seen. But Fester bringing people here was rare, and most of them knew who she was, so maybe that meant she could come out again. She spied a black-haired human and a turian, both of whom she recognised but couldn't instantly recall. She came out from behind the door and walked cautiously over to them, in case this was a trap like that one time. She discreetly readied her biotics as she approached, before her recent memory finally kicked in.  
'Wednesday?" she asked the younger human carefully.  
"Hello Benezia." The elder asari paused as she looked at the two of them, wondering what to say.  
"You're looking well. Fester said that you would be back soon. Oh and Garrus, good to see you as well," she muttered, nearly a millennia of political posturing taking over as her brain partially stalled.  
"Benezia, good to see you," Garrus replied.

"Alright, now that everyone has introduced themselves, let's get down to business," Fester said, rubbing his hands in anticipation. "Garrus, if you'll follow me, I've got your QEC over here. Benezia, why don't you show Wednesday the gifts that Dal Segno left us?"  
"Of course Fester," Benezia replied with a bow of her head, before heading deeper into the lab with Wednesday in pursuit. Wednesday followed the asari into another section of the lab, where a large piece of metal sat in pride of place on a central island bench. As Wednesday went over to look at it she realised it hadn't been forged in the traditional sense, and probably had been Dal Segno's work. It was a standard grey, but on closer inspection the surface formed an incredible pattern of overlapping waves. Where the layers overlapped, the slightest hint of a purple colour could be seen.

"What exactly am I looking at?" Wednesday asked Benezia. The asari moved over to the terminal at the side of the room and pulled up a large datafile.  
"I wasn't able to follow all the detail," Benezia said as she moved aside so Wednesday could peruse the file. "From what Fester has told me from the data the queen provided, it appears to be a new form of steel that Dal Segno had been experimenting with. From what we've been able to gather, the rachni homeworld was very poor in most metals, particularly iron. From the historical record, we believe the ships they initially grew were based on a carbon polymer similar to a nanotube structure, woven in such a way as to resemble carbon-fibre at a much smaller scale, dramatically increasing the strength of the resulting structure. When she started here, she found that metal was much more common, so she was trying a similar technique with iron. While it certainly isn't exactly analogous to the carbon structures at the molecular level, she was experimenting with different alloys of iron and other elements to see if she could replicate the effects. This particular piece is a cast-off from the ship she eventually left on. It's an odd mix of iron, titanium and cobalt, and it reacts differently to known alloys. It was used as the hull on her ship, and if Fester's estimates are accurate, its protective benefits far outstrip that of even current-generation armour."  
"Could be handy," Wednesday said with a subtle nod as she read Fester's notes. There was a slight padding sound, as of someone tapping their fingers on the desk, and it was beginning to distract her. "Could you stop tapping please?" she asked without looking up.

"That isn't me Wednesday," Benezia said, Wednesday confirming it as she saw her standing outside of arms reach of the nearest bench. Seeing this, Wednesday went for her pistol and pointed it in the direction of the sound. It was coming from behind a box. Wednesday advanced slowly, muffling her footsteps as much as possible as she closed in on the box. Without warning, her left hand darted out and shoved the box away, pistol ready to neutralise any threat revealed. After a few moments, Wednesday lowered the pistol to shoot the source of the sound a confused glance instead. After a brief flash of pain as a lagging memory clicked into place, she had a name to go with the sight in front of her.

"Hello there, you cute little Thing," she said. The mobile, disembodied hand reared back on the portion of its wrist and waved at her, and Wednesday felt compelled to wave back. She put her pistol away and reached out to it, the nimble-digited hand running up her arm and ending up perched on her shoulder like the oddest parrot parody in the galaxy. Wednesday didn't even feel the slightest bit odd as she caressed the back of the animated hand with a finger, delighting in the slight shivering she assumed was a sign of pleasure.

"So, while this metal is interesting, Uncle said something about Dal Segno leaving some method of communicating with her?" she asked, completely at ease with her newest little Thing.  
"Yes, I imagine that you would be interested in talking to her, yes?"  
"She was little more than a child when I saved her, I just want to make sure she's ok. Call it a leftover parental thing," Wednesday replied vaguely.  
"I know what you mean," Benezia said hauntingly as she moved over to the other side of the lab. Wednesday came up beside her as Benezia opened a secure case, similar to the one that Fester had left for Wednesday's QEC. It opened to reveal a clear purple crystal, looking almost exactly like a raw amethyst. Unlike a natural gemstone though, this one pulsed slightly with biotic light. Benezia looked up at Wednesday as she explained.

"This crystal, as far as we have been able to determine, functions similarly to a QEC," Benezia began. "Really, the things we learn about the rachni are truly fascinating, as they managed to grow organically what the rest of the galaxy has had to manufacture artificially. Anyway, there are essentially two ways to work this. You can use this to contact her directly, or you can have someone hold the stone to act as a conduit. The first use is... disorienting, while the second use leaves the conduit with a feeling of mild detachment and delirium."  
"Speaking from experience?" Wednesday asked.  
"Yes, sometimes during our conversations, Fester has asked questions and received answers. I suspect that asari, with our heightened mental abilities, experience it differently to say, a human. I suspect the experience would not be as pleasant for anyone else."  
"You may be right there," Wednesday mused. "So, how exactly does it work?"  
"Simply touch the crystal if you want to use it directly, or I can do it if you wish to use me as a conduit," Benezia said simply. There was no hint of resentment or shame in the asari's statement, just plain fact.  
"I'm not going to use you for something I will not experience myself. You are no slave or servant Benezia, you're a person," Wednesday said seriously.  
"I know that, but that does not mean I do not wish to atone for the sins in my life!" Benezia replied strongly, but not shouting. Her voice at times could still project the powerful galactic leader she used to be. "For the twenty years that I cannot recall. For the years before that where I pulled on the strings of the galaxy at the expense of my daughter's happiness, and my own."

Wednesday held up a hand to still her argument before it progressed.  
"I understand Benezia. I was merely saying that I do not wish you to think of yourself as subservient," she said solemnly, before a smirk came to her face. "Besides, I make it a challenge to myself to try something new and dangerous every so often. Last week, it was rising from the dead. This week, let's try this!" she said gleefully as her hand came to rest on the glowing crystal.

* * *

In another section of the lab, Garrus was being handed his new QEC.  
"That's it?" Garrus asked, looking down at the metal disk in his three-fingered hand.  
"What, being able to instantly connect to the eight other Addams in the galaxy isn't enough for you?" Fester retorted indignantly.  
"No, just that... I don't know, there should be a little ceremony to it or something. Not just 'here you go, now you can talk to us all whenever you want'. This is an amazing piece of technology after all. Cerberus installed a big clunky one on the Normandy, and I'm holding a much more advanced one in my hand."  
"Who do you think invented them?" Fester asked with a glint in his eye.  
"Uh, you're not going to hit me if I say you, are you?" Garrus asked as he integrated the QEC into his omni-tool.  
"Not with anything lethal, but no, not my invention. Granny's the one to thank for that little beauty."  
"You mean she of the Cackle That Should Not Be and arms that could break a thresher maw?"  
"Right in one," Fester replied with a chuckle. As much as he really liked old Esmerelda, there was something to be said for her _not_ being _his_ mother-in-law.

Any further conversation was halted in the wake of a very loud scream nearby. Both of them looked up, not in fear or any other adrenaline-fuelled state, but in interest. After all, screaming meant there was fun to be had for an Addams. When a second scream followed, they both identified the voice as Wednesday's. Reluctantly, Fester pulled out a coin and handed it over to the turian.  
"I told you, with something as cool as interstellar communication with her mind, Wednesday would jump at the chance to do it," Garrus said.  
"I'd say bite me Garrus, but I don't think it would go so well with the whole 'dextro-levo' thing," Fester remarked as the two of them walked in the direction of the screaming Wednesday.

* * *

Indeed it was Wednesday screaming, but not in any sort of pain. Immediately upon touching the crystal, her mind was sent reeling as it established a connection across tens of thousands of light-years. A connection that involved her mind and only her mind. As a result of this entirely unknown experience of her upper conscious being separate from her physical form, her basic hindbrain found itself in control for the first time in millions of years of evolutionary history, and did the first thing that came to its primitive proto-thought processes.

It screamed, and then screamed again. Then as it realised that this wasn't helping anything, it stopped screaming and gave up on fine motor control, returning to its previous tasks of simply keeping the body alive and waiting for the rest of Wednesday to return the mind to the body.

On a completely different level, Wednesday's mind was reeling as it felt a flurry of completely impossible sensations as the connection formed. Burning cold, a sense of falling upwards, black being white and sound being smelt. Then her thoughts stilled from raging frenzy to calm pond as a single serene note was felt across her consciousness. Another note followed, and Wednesday heard it like a tone from a harp, and yet also felt curiosity in the note. More notes followed, testing her, asking her questions that she didn't remember answering, but must have, for finally she felt another presence within the connection.

_Child of Woe, we meet again. You have returned, as you helped us return. Are you also Dal Segno now, as we are?_

The voice was everywhere and yet again nowhere. Though it was hard to tell if it was an actual voice she heard and not simple a collection of different sounds and emotions that her brain interpreted as a voice. Despite the oddity, Wednesday knew who it was, and felt an emotion she had never felt before. Had she children of her own, she would have recognised it as that of a mother reuniting with her child after a separation, but she had not experienced it before, so she could not explain the feeling of lightness and warmth in her being at hearing the voice.

"Dal Segno, I have indeed returned. But I remain named as I was, Wednesday, the Child of Woe."  
_We hear your song again, and we are glad for it.  
_"Where are you now? How long have you been away from Noveria?"  
_The others who hold the crystal, the old sad soul and the hairless one, are better able to tell it. We have found a new planet, and though it does not sing with us, we shall sing here regardless. We are hidden and grow slowly, until the galaxy is ready to hear our symphony again. It is... we do not know the words to relate to you how long we have been here. Your kind judges time by the passage of light and dark, but rachni live underground where such things do not penetrate. We measure time by our songs and the cadence of the living planet around us. Again, the crystal keepers can tell it better.  
_"I'll ask Fester and Benezia then, DS. Have you heard the yellow note again?"

_We heard it once in its dying scream, and knew of its death at your hands. Who else would be responsible?  
_"Who else indeed?"  
_But things stir now that resonate with that note. The yellow sourness does not warp our minds, thanks to the hairless one, but these others reek of it. We hear only echoes through the song, but it is out there, controlling and directing.  
_"What are they doing, the Reapers?"  
_We do not know. They sometimes pass close enough to hear the controlling note, but what few ships we dare send out do not get close enough to identify those being sung to.  
_"Hmm, troubling. I wonder if there is a connection to the case I'm working now on the Collectors," Wednesday mused.  
_We knew of these ones, from the memories of mother. They are without souls, and their songs feel wrong to us, even now after many songs have passed. But mother's memory is corrupted by the yellow note, so we cannot trust it to be a true reflection.  
_"I understand. Stay safe Dal Segno, and become strong. The galaxy may need you again someday."  
_We will be waiting. Now go, and take this gift with you_.

Wednesday's mind was suddenly filled with music unlike any she'd ever heard before. As she listened to it she realised it was her song, the one Dal Segno had promised her. It spoke of Duty, of the incredible burden of being an Addams. Of the joy in living and killing. Of the pleasure to be found in a lover's arms and on the battlefield. Of everything that Wednesday was, echoing and amplified in sound and emotion. Then it began to fade away as the connection faded, until Wednesday was standing in Fester's lab on Noveria, three faces looking at her expectantly.  
"Now that was a hell of a thing," she said in a breathy whisper, her mind still vibrating with the fading echoes of Dal Segno's song.

* * *

"Wednesday, before you go, you might want to take these," Fester said, handing her two small cases, one of which clinked faintly as it moved. Wednesday opened that one to see two dozen vials in various colours.  
"What exactly am I looking at Uncle?" Wednesday asked with genuine curiosity.  
"The latest in my gene mods to combat indoctrination. I've managed to get one for every known species except batarian. Most of them haven't been released until the trials finish, and even then I don't expect a human product will get far in the salarian and volus markets, but it's a start at least. These will give everyone on your crew at least enough to ensure protection. The other case has my latest indoctrination scanner, small and discreet enough to incorporate into your omni-tool. It has a much higher reliability that the ones I gave you to present to the Council. Oh, and I took the liberty of including the fabrication licences and schematics so you can make as many of the scanners and mods you'll need."  
"Thanks Uncle," Wednesday said as she closed the case. "Someone told me that the scanners themselves had been implemented at Alliance bases, but was anyone ever caught out?"  
"Only a few, and they were put into a secure medical facility. Best information I have is that they are being treated as mentally ill and confined to quarters."  
"I see," Wednesday said, thinking.

The three of them wandered back to the shuttle, Benezia once again staying behind in the remote lab in case that someone recognised her in the short time they would be staying at Fester's home. As they got to the shuttle, Wednesday absently stroked the extra hand still perched on her shoulder.  
"Uncle, could I ask for something?"  
"Anything in particular? I won't be giving you money, probably for the same reason Morticia isn't."  
"Relax Uncle, this isn't about money. I was actually wondering if you'd mind if I take Thing here with me on my travels. I'm sure he'd love scuttling around the _Normandy_ and meeting new people."  
"First Lurch, now Thing. Is there anything I make that you don't eventually end up taking?" he asked in jovial exasperation.  
"Well, I haven't taken Benezia yet," Wednesday said consolingly.  
"Thank nitroglycerine for small favours then. Alright, is that everything then? Sure there isn't something you'd like to steal now that you've had a moment to think about it?"  
"Nope, I think that will be enough for today."  
"Good," he huffed good-naturedly as he sat in the pilot seat with Garrus and Wednesday seated behind him. "Now, let's go check on the progress of the new paint job."

* * *

"Gotta say Wednesday, seeing it on a miniature hologram is one thing. Seeing it full size is something else entirely," Garrus said as they both looked at the new paint job that Fester's drones had been working on while they were at the lab. She was now entirely matte black on the main fuselage, except for the white _Normandy-A_ on the side. The wings were black as well, but sported the distinctive red and white stripe that was the mark of an N7 operative. And in place of the black and orange Cerberus logo that had been on the bow plates was something entirely different. It was a teardrop shaped silver shield with an ancient helm on top and a red eye as the shield's bottom point, with a red ribbon below. The shield had been divided into three, the top left section showed an open hand on a yellow background, the top right a raven bust against navy blue, and the bottom third a silver capital A against red. On the ribbon in black letters was the Addams creed: _Sic gorgiamus allos subiectatos nunc_. All in all, it was an impressive device on an impressive ship.

"You don't think advertising the Addams crest was a bit much?" Garrus asked.  
"Not really. Most people have no idea what it is, and the ones that do will be put in the proper mood once they recognise it," Wednesday reasoned.  
"Makes sense I suppose. So, how long are you planning on letting Zaeed and Fester drink before we head off?"  
"Long enough to enjoy the drink, but we need to get moving soon. The Collectors are still out there, as well as all the rest of the specialists that the Illusive Man thought would be a good match for us. We wouldn't want to disappoint them all now, would we?"  
"Wednesday dear, there are times where I wonder just what would happen if you were bored and decided galactic domination would be a fun diversion."  
"And what happens in these little imaginings of yours, my dear Garrus."  
"Either you end up in control of it all inside a week, or you find some way to make the galaxy go ultra-nova. Either way, it's a disturbing end to the galaxy."  
"See, that's why I like you Garrus. You aren't afraid to admit that I'd be more likely to destroy the galaxy than anything else."  
"I'd say I'd be frightened, but I'd probably be helping you either way."

The two of them enjoyed a long laugh as they entered the _Normandy-A_ and decided to give Thing the tour. The first person they ran into was Chakwas as she got herself a cup of tea in the mess. She looked up to see Garrus and Wednesday approaching, before noticing the extra hand perched on Wednesday's shoulder. As it gave her a little finger wave, she raised a dubious eyebrow before waving back.  
"Another one of Fester's little toys?" she asked wearily.  
"Karin, be nice to the little Thing. Its just being friendly," Wednesday said with a small laugh. She picked up the hand and placed it on the table next to Karin, who surprised even Wednesday by extending her hand in greeting. Thing gripped her hand and was taken off the table as Karin shook it, before being placed back down. Wednesday then noted the hand's expression of awe as she picked it up again, as much as a disembodied hand could express awe anyway.

"I think it likes you," Wednesday cooed as she stroked the extraneous hand on her shoulder.  
"Yes, well, it's nice to see something vaguely non-threatening coming from your escapades. Though I'd suggest giving it a space in your cabin. Jack might not share my easy-going manner about these things."  
"But where's the fun in that?" Wednesday argued.  
"The fun in having the ship in one piece, unlike the last one she was on," Karin chided. Wednesday had to nod her head in agreement at that statement. Perhaps not springing Thing on Jack while she was on the ship would be a good idea. She chuckled as he settled down on her shoulder like a miniature cat, before deciding on where he should go. She stood up carefully, so as not to disturb her passenger, before walking over to the elevator and hitting the button for her cabin.

As she opened the door to the ethereal light coming from the fishtank, she quickly cobbled together a glass tank with her omni-tool, setting it up on one of her shelves before placing the cute little Thing inside. She then took a few sheets of junk paper and shredded them finely, scattering the detritus in the bottom of the tank.  
"So, uh, I'm not entirely sure what else to put in there with you," she said plainly. She raised an eyebrow when the Thing tapped the glass with a knuckle, then pantomimed holding a pen. She got out some paper and a pen and handed it to the hand, watching as it swiftly wrote out a short list of desired objects. It tapped the paper with the pen to signify it was finished, and Wednesday fetched the list. She couldn't help laughing as she read over the list of Thing's wants.

"Not asking for much, are you?" she managed to say through her laughter. "Feathers, a stress ball, a small cardboard box, moisturiser and a vibrator. You know what, I'm not even going to ask why you want a vibrator, but sure, I'll get you one." She took the list and went back down to the CIC, chuckling all the way.

* * *

**A/N: Wednesday already? Guess that means it's time for another chapter of Wednesday!**

**And yes, for those of you keeping track at home, this is an original little jaunt. Fester featured quite heavily in Classified Memories, especially with his gift of Lurch, but for ME2, all he can really give Wednesday this time around is the means to combat indoctrination on a small scale, as well as Thing. Yes, I'm going to be having a bunch of fun with that cute little Thing. No, I'm not going to just tell you why it wants a vibrator. Who knows why a disembodied hands would want anything, let alone a vibrator. I suspect you'll find out at the same time Wednesday does. **

** And in case any of you were wondering: Sex. I got a mixed response, but no-one seemed to actively object to it, and a couple of people really warming to the idea. So, to those lucky few who were simply agog for some hardcore sexual acts to be depicted, you win! I won't say when or where you'll get them, but expect them a lot sooner than just before Omega-4. Also, expect more than one. At this point, I've finished writing one and have a second, more involved scene, already planned. **

**When we get to the sex scenes I'll be sure to give you all a warning (or an inducement) at the beginning of the chapter. And I'll give credit where its due now and say that a lot of the inspiration and stylistic choices in the lead up and execution of said sex scenes owes a lot to the irreplacable Rae D Madgon and her collaborative partners. If you aren't familiar with her work, fix this deplorable insufficiency in your literature palate with due haste. Haste I say!**

**Oh, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten all the people I owe cameo appearances to. They will be written in eventually, if I remember in time.**


End file.
